


Remaking Monsters

by StrangeBint



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Westworld (TV)
Genre: Adulthood, Alternate Universe - Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fusion, Alternate Universe - Dollhouse Fusion, Character Study, Dark Horse Buffy the Vampire Slayer Comics, Dark Willow Rosenberg (BtVS), F/F, F/M, Femslash, First Time Bottoming, Love/Hate, Loving Marriage, M/M, Makeup Sex, Multi, POV Faith Lehane, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Power Dynamics, Quarantine, Souled Spike (BtVS), Spanking, Switching, Threesome - F/M/M, Time Skips, Topping from the Bottom, Vampire Bites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:28:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24215941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangeBint/pseuds/StrangeBint
Summary: Faith remembers her rocky redemption path which involves Willow, Spike, Connor, and some bots. Faith Lehane is way more complicated than she'd like to think and so is all of this. It will be a Westworld Crossover eventually.Daddy Spike, Morally Complex Hot! bisexual, pansexual, lesbian Faith Lehane. Evil?? Willow, see tags!
Relationships: Connor (AtS)/Faith Lehane, Connor (AtS)/Faith Lehane/Spike (BtVS), Faith Lehane/Clementine Pennyfeather, Faith Lehane/Spike, Faith Lehane/Willow Rosenberg
Comments: 6
Kudos: 3





	1. Remaking Monsters

God, she was horny AF.

Faith Lehane rolled over in bed. Day 53, but who’s counting?

When that other guy was in charge there had “almost” been a pandemic but there wasn’t.

  
God, that was so long ago now. Faith always new San Francisco wasn’t going to last forever. She knew she’d screw it up. She hadn’t quite predicted how. She really thought she’d accidently kill another innocent person, or she’d get drunk because she accidentally killed someone and then fuck Spike or something. She never could have predicted that it would be Willow. 

She couldn’t have predicted all the sneaking around as if they were cheating on Buffy or something.

Maybe she should have seen that. But, the witch had been such a sweet pillow princess. Faith loved making her cum. It was so easy.

She just had to do her whole:   
“Hey, s’up, good-two-shoes. C’mon, aren’t you tired of being so perfect all the time? Don’t ya wanna feel good. Don’t you want a real Slayer to make you scream?”  
Faith barely had to circle her fingers and the witch was puddy in her hands and soaking her flowery sheets. She really should have predicted that Spike would have figured it out when he went with her and Willow to bust up that whole “creepy rapey mind control corporation” as Willow called it. She was a bit taken aback when Spike pulled her aside at the beginning of a Tsunami Bomb concert to do a mini-intervention.

  
“This has gotta stop, Slayer,” he said.

  
Willow wasn’t there. Faith was thinking she’d show up. This band was totally the type of thing both she and Willow would be into. The girls were talented and hot in that cute Hot Topic way, but their songs were angry if you really listened. 

  
“What?” Faith asked, “Going to shows? It’s five by five. I got an extra few bucks from helping some cadets move.”  
“So,” he said, “The Witch doesn’t give you any money. Not that you’d take it. But, I know how strapped you are and she’s not exactly loaded but she’s never strapped. I--”   
“I’m going to cut you off before you make some lesbian strap on joke and I have to hit you as an honorary dyke,” Faith says, “And before you get all in or out on me this isn’t my first rodeo to the mission district of chicks. I’m not going to hurt her. She knows what’s up. Lesbians can have hook ups too. I—“  


“You’re not gonna hurt her,” Spike said, “She’s gonna hurt you.”  


“Right,” Faith said, “Because I’m the girl that falls in love with everyone I make moan.”

“There’s more than one way to get hurt, you know?” 

  
“No kidding,” she said, “I’m the expert in giving the pain but I make it hurt good“

  
“Does she ever make you moan?” Spike asked, “Does she ever hurt you good? Or even bad?”

  
“Wow,” Faith said, “Someone’s desperate for—“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Spike said, “If I wanted to get my jollies picturing you it wouldn’t be—“

  
“If you’re gonna tell me I need a man to get off I’ll announce that to this entire room,” Faith said, “At least a few of these girls should be vamps or demons that will kick your—“

  
“I told you,” Spike said, “We’re not talking about what gets me off.” 

  
Faith could help but laugh.

  
“But, if Willow’s never even offered—“

  
“That’s okay,” Faith finished, “If that’s what I’m into. Sex isn’t all--”

  
“Okay,” he said, “Fine. But, when was the last time you really got off? If you don’t want to that’s fine, but why not? Is being on top getting in the way?” 

  
She pulled out all the typical claws. She’d stop fucking Willow if he’d stop hanging around B like a kicked puppy hoping she’d take him back and dump his ass a third time. That didn’t work.   


“I know it may not look like it but,” he said, “I’m not doing what I’m doing because I want to punish myself, and even if I were, I at least have something worthwhile to punish myself for.”

She was sure she stuck up for all her crimes. She couldn’t remember what she said anymore. Faith remembered right when the kid showed up because she was half heartily accusing Spike of wanting her for a fuck buddy to make Buffy angry. He just kind of slid up next to Spike. Spike bought him a drink. Faith didn’t know if he was old enough. This is what he said:

  
“If you guys are gonna talk about the CEO Slayer I’m leaving. I get that she has to be a really amazing person and all but you know my theory. I’m all Fleetwood, Mac.” 

  
“Yeah, yeah,” Spike said and sipped his beer.

  
“You’re all Fleetwood Mac?” Faith asked him.

  
“Yeah,” he said, “You know. Rulers make bad lovers.”

  
“Huh,” Faith half chuckled. 

  
“No wonder I’m never in charge of anything in the streets,” she said. 

“Me neither,” he said.

  
“I have,” Spike said, “But, I don’t have the same stamina for the streets.”

  
It was like the three of them hung out at grrl shows drinking and talking about chicks all the time. Spike hadn’t introduced them, but if Spike knew this kid he was cool. She’d never admit it but if Spike let him talk about B and gave him a beer she knew she could probably trust him in a way that she’d never trust someone the Scooby gang brought around. 

  
“Yeah,” the kid said, “I’ve heard the stories. Lovers make bad rulers.”

  
“Better put your cock up for sale,” Spike said.

  
The kid’s smile lit up a room. She knew him from somewhere. He wasn’t a vamp but he was something. He was the kind of guy that lesbians found attractive. She wasn’t immune to it either. She had grown up with River Phoenix pin ups making her tingle as much as any girl. She could have a pair of big Elijah Wood eyes staring up at her.

  
“If that’s the deal I think I’ll let other people rule.”

  
“Maybe I’ll get on that,” Faith said, “I’m not as attached to mine as you guys are to yours.”

  
“Good,” Spike yelled over a starting song, “Then I’m sure you and the witch would be over.”

  
“The witch?” The kid asked, “You mean…”

  
The music got loud. He walked over to her.

  
“Can I ask you a personal question?” he leaned into her a little.

  
He was no vamp. His body was warm and alive. She yelled into his ear as the music played

.  
“Look,” Faith said, “If you really have to know; Willow did get me off the first time and it was really good. Like too good. I wasn’t expecting it. I really just wanted to be her friend. But, I should have known I’d screw that up.

I should have said no. She’s one of the few people I let side me up a wall, but she used magic, and the last thing I need is her getting addicted to it again or something. Because with my luck that’s what would happen and it would be all my fault. I’m not the best person, okay? I mean half the reason I’m doing it was I’d see her check me out when we were, like seventeen, and I knew she was a dyke before she was. That was part of the reason she hated me. The other reason was I kind of almost killed her friends on purpose. So, now, she’ll at least hate me less, and she’s got a really great O face and smells like strawberries.” 

  
It felt good to get that out. The music was so loud she couldn’t hear her own words. She thought he probably didn’t hear them either. Then he turned to her. His face was flushed. Shit.

  
“So,” he asked, “You remember me, right?”

  
She did. Didn’t she? She had to. What was wrong with…

  
“Sometimes—“ he began.

  
“Connor?” she said.

  
“Faith,” he smiled again.

  
“I know I wasn’t—“ He began.

  
“Shit! Connor!” She hugged him. 

  
She couldn’t describe what she was feeling, like something had always been missing and now…. 

  
“Faith,” a clipped voice called to her. 

  
It was Willow and she looked so upset.

  
“Balls,” Spike muttered. 

  
She shot him a look. It wasn’t like that Willow wasn’t some crazy jealous lesbian stereotype that—

  
“What the hell are you doing?” Willow demanded.


	2. Tsunami Bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is all about Faith getting topped by Willow and liking it, but knowing something isn't quiet right and at times deciding "who cares?" Because wouldn't you? Dark-ish Willow because isn't she really always? Cute Willow at times. Willow/Faith, Faith/Willow   
> Hot Lesbian sex with a soul and a temporal disturbance. Willow has Spike issues. Spike has Willow issues.   
> Spike and Connor are fun and funny. More of them soon. I promise.   
> Spanking!

_Day 53 in quarantine and Faith promised herself she’d be grateful. She did have a lot to be grateful for. Besides all the sexual frustration. It all went south so fast so many times. The last time their had been talk of pandemic she lived right in San Fran and Faith had gone south fast so many times literally with Willow Rosenberg._

_Back then she really had been a giver. That was the thing about being on top, having someone under you. You were in control because they couldn’t get out from under you, but it wasn’t like they wanted to. You were doing it all for them. They wanted you. They needed you. You were everything for them. Yeah, it was great to be on top and give all that pleasure. Sometimes that was all you needed, all she needed. Being told you were the best, that someone had to have you, couldn’t live without you or your mad skillz. Willow was by far Faith’s first lesson of how twisted up that could all get, but maybe she’d been the best lesson, or the worst._

“Faith. What the hell are you doing?” Willow demanded an answer from Faith.

Faith was doing a lot. She was hugging. She was trying to get her life together. She was going to be a cop of all things. So was Buffy. They hung out a lot. Willow had really helped Faith out with doing a lot of stuff. She had helped her organize all her paperwork and get her shit together. She helped Faith get over the hump. Then, two weeks ago Faith and Willow started humping, on the down low, of course.

“Willow,” Faith said.

She had to yell over the music of Tsunami Bomb. Maybe Willow was pissed Faith was now at The Bottom of The Hill, which wasn’t a metaphor but a bar in outside The Mission District she really couldn’t afford to go to. Willow was right. Faith should be better at saving money. Maybe Willow was here to wag a stern finger at her, which was beyond cute. It was hot. Hot because Faith knew minutes after she was scolded she could have Willow writhing under her. Maybe the witch would decide she really needed Faith and it could become a real thing. That would be more than a little complicated. For now Faith would play it as casual as Sunday brunch.

“What’s up?” Faith said with a smile.

She untangled her arms from the kid, from Connor. Connor! She had forgotten about Connor! Angel’s kid! So, of course she had to squeeze the life out of him with a remembering hug. What the hell was up with forgetting him? She was sure it was a black magic boy thing they’d have to get to.

“What are you doing?” Willow said again loud enough to be heard over the song.

“I’m an old friend,” Connor shouted over the music.

Faith almost laughed. Old friend. It had only been…Shit, it had been five years almost and the kid still looked like a baby face, a pretty softer Leo baby face, with a hint of stubble.

“Yeah, um,” Faith yelled and then quieted because the song ended, ““Was I supposed to meet you somewhere for some slayage. You know I don’t have a smart phone yet so texts are a little dodgy.”

She could feel Spike’s eyes on the three of them. Spike figured out Faith and Willow were doing it and he had all these mother hen opinions about it which would be annoying. But he thought Faith was the one who needed the mothering which was just weird. She knew whatever this was Willow was not jealous.

Faith had no idea why the perky little witch would be pissed at her. She was sure it was one of those mundane adulting things. Faith had left the door unlocked. She forgot to give their roommate Rose the rent money. Was the rent money due? Shit.

“Oh,” Willow said, “I-is that what happened? Sorry. I mean, yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to be all…Who are you?”

“Connor,” Connor mouth twisted in a way Faith remembered, “We’ve actually met.”

“Did we?” Willow said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I know I was. You have every right to be all sneery. You really should buy a smart phone, Faith. I mean…“

B’s friends were always so bad at lying. Faith had no idea how they ever get through life. Let alone world-saving. _B’s friends_. Why was Faith still thinking that? Faith was screwing her after all. People thought Faith was into burly dudes and she was. But really she loved anyone that had a bit of chip on their shoulder or a stick up their ass. She was all about that stick out or that cock straight. Willow had kind of an interesting stick/chip situation. Faith never forgot for one second that she was the most powerful one in any room, but Willow seemed to forget it.

“She can’t afford a smart phone,” Spike said, “Not everyone has professor parents, ya know.”

Faith glared at Spike. She’d like to take the chip off of Spike’s shoulder and beat him with it. Not in fun way right now. Willow had the right idea. She just ignored Spike. She took Faith’s hand and pulled her through the crowd as the singer of Tsunami bomb was talking about how Obama was finally gonna fix the economy. They moved through all kinds of punks, emos, hipsters, a guy with crutches that looked like machine guns, a milf in a mobility scooter with a marriage equality sign. The milf seemed like she was something witchy or demon. Faith didn’t sense any other vampires or predators.

“I heard what you said to—to them,” Willow pointed towards the direction of the stage.

“Them who? The band? Spike and Connor?” Faith said, “I’m glad you—“

“What?” Willow’s head swivled back and fourth from the stage to Faith’s, “The band? No, just—just that Connor, I guess? Is-- are they a boy or--?”

Faith laughed.

“Yeah,” she mussed Willow’s short bob, “Connor is a boy. Not a girl with stubble, but if that’s what you’re into I could stop waxing. I am Albanian, you—“

Faith words were stopped by Willow’s lips. It was the kind of kiss that curled your toes.

“Wow,” Faith said. She knew she should say something clever here, “Wow.”

“Do you remember what I said?” Willow asked.

“I—uh—can’t remember what I said after that kiss,” Faith said.

Faith brushed Willow’s hair back. She didn’t look over her shoulder.

“What’s gotten into—“ Faith was interrupted by another toe curling kiss.

Willow rapped her arms around her tight and moved her hands down to Faith’s ass.

“Sorry,” Willow said, “It’s been a day. I know you usually like to be the dominant one.”

Dominant one? It wasn’t like they were really doing stuff with strap-ons or even vibrators or fuzzy handcuffs. There was the first night that Faith had just confessed to Connor. The one where Faith found herself floating up against the wall of her closet like bedroom apartment while her clit vibrated softly and her whole body tingled. Meanwhile, Willow sat on Faith’s bed her hands and fingers dancing in the air as she starred up at Faith. That didn’t suck, but like Faith told Connor, she owed Willow way more pleasure than she could ever give. Faith let Spike assume there was all this kink going on with Willow. But, it was really very vanilla and sometimes vanilla was sweet.

“I think I’m cool with it,” Faith looked into Willow’s round eyes, “If you wanna work off some tension. I mean, I am a Slayer. You gotta know how to be under some power sometime.”

Willow frowned a bit. Reel it in, Faith. This was her problem. Faith was still so all or nothing and it burnt people out.

“Really?” Willow smiled, “I mean, you used talk about how dom you were all the time. Kennedy would say it was a sure sign you were a bottom.”

Willow whispered the last part. Faith made sure she kept smiling as the people behind them danced. Kennedy was another complication. She and Faith had been friends before Willow dumped her and took off. Kennedy probably wouldn’t be thrilled that Faith turned out to be Willow’s rebound.

“I mean I know I say that stuff but mostly for guys. You gotta keep them in line, you know?”

“Only from distant memory and speaking of distant memory and guys,” Willow said, “What’s up with that twink?”

Willow looked behind her. Somewhere in the crowd between the bar and the stage was Connor. Spike was in it too, but Willow didn’t mean Spike.

“What?” Faith said

“That boy that’s kind of twinkie?” Willow says, “A twink is like—“

“I know who you mean,” Faith says, “and I know what a twink is. I’m just surprised you do.”

The music started up again. It was a ballad. A tall girl with an afro kissed a short girl that dressed like Xander and had his haircut. A couple next to them that looked at vanilla as ice cream danced. 

“You think I don’t know what a twink is?” Willow said, “I’m the real lesbian.”

Willow ran her hand up Faith’s arm.

“Real--?” Faith licked her lips, “Okay, fair enough? But, lesbians don’t actually hang out with twinks.”

“Is there a reason your avoiding the question?”

Willow doesn’t frown now; her face looks severe.

“No,” Faith said, “I mean, not for any reason I think you’re thinking. He is a friend, Will. I don’t fuck every single—“

“Oh, honey,” Willow said, “it’s not that at all.”

Did Willow just call her “honey?” Did Faith just like it? No. This wasn’t serious. They had just started screwing because…Why had they?

“I mean,” Willow continued, “If that did happen I would probably need to know for temporal reasons, and I wouldn’t be mad or anything.”

“Temple--Mad?” Faith managed because Willow’s thumb was circling the inside of her arm.

Mad? Why would Willow be mad? They were just casual. Faith was a rebound. Why was Faith having a hard time thinking just because Willow’s fingers were circling inside her arm? Couples swayed to the beat of the ballad. Holding each other close. Faith wished they were dancing. She should ask Willow. She would.

“We can talk about it later?” Willow said, “Wanna dance?”

Faith didn’t answer with words. She pulled Willow close. Her body was sturdy and tight.

“So,” Faith said, “You had a day. Wanna talk about it?”

Willow really did smell like strawberries even her breath did and she sighed into Faith’s ear.

“It’s boring,” Willow said, “There seems to be a temporal disturbance, something going wonky with time and or timelines. The twinkie stinks of it.”

Willow pulled back to look Faith in the eye.

“You mean Connor?” Faith said, “Yeah. I-I can explain that. Kinda.”

“Shhh,” she Willow pressed her finger to Faiths lips. “Bored now. I mean I know I brought it up but…”

“But you don’t think I’m smart enough to know…“

Faith had to stop talking now becauseWillow gently pushed her finger into Faith’s mouth and Faith sucked on her finger.

“Mmm,” Willow purred. Faith felt Willow hand travel down to her ass and pinch it.

“You have to stop doing that,” Willow said, “or I’m going to start punishing you.”

“Stop…” Faith shut her eyes and swayed to the ballad.

“Insulting yourself,” Willow said, “You’re plenty smart. You’d have been better at school than some other Slayers if you had a chance. I’m sure you can tell me all about the twink and even rescue me from him if needed, but right now—“

“He’s not evil,” Faith eyes jerked open, “He’s—“

Willow pinched her ass again and Faith let out a noise. There was a couple that was making out hard while most danced.

“I said if needed, missy,” Willow said, “I trust you. I know it’s not really about—“

“You trust me?” Faith said.

“Of course I do,” Willow said, “and you can trust me too.”

“I do,” Faith said, “I do and ya know, if you wanna let off some steam over your bad day. I’m game if you have ideas.”

Willow pulled back to look at her.

“Oh,” Willow said, “You have no idea about my ideas. But, I don’t know.”

She bit her pert lip.

“Yeah,” Faith let out a chuckle, “Some things our better left to fantasy. But, if you ever want to work up to something. That’s five by—“

“No,” Willow smirked, “I don’t know if _you’d_ be able to take handle it.”

“Is that a challenge, red?” Faith said, ”What exactly did you have in mind. Whips. Chains. Red room of pain.”

“Oh Faith, Faith, Faith,” she said, “You and your Slayer pain and rooms and your physics.”

  
“Physics?” Faith said, “Now I’m curious.”

“How Curious?” Willow said.

“Curious enough to leave right now,” Faith said huskily.

Her own pussy was dripping with anticipation.

“Why leave?” Willow said and gave her own of those tow curling kisses.

It actually was kind of leg curling. Faith had to struggle to keep standing. This was a human girl, Lehane. Willow wasn’t made of sticks, but Faith couldn’t just fold up like… Faith gasped when Willow lifted her up her ass. She was always forgetting everyday girls were, but she’d remember this. She wrapped her legs around Willow’s waist and enjoyed the being held and kissed. Faith was ready for Willow to set her down and then they’d go at it in her Kia. When Willow set her down Faith took her hand, but Willow didn’t move from the spot. They were still surrounded by dancers swaying.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Willow said.

Faith felt the tingle in her body that she did the first nigh Willow did the spell. Faith could see in Willow’s parted lips and relaxed eyes she felt something too. Faith kissed her hungrily and she wound up lifted up by her ass again.

“I can do pain,” Willow’s voice was husky and heavy, “But I know it’s pleasure like this that scares you. If you want me to stop just--”

“I’m down,” Faith said.

Willow laughed at her eagerness and kissed her.

“I was going to say ‘If you want me to stop just think it and I will.’”

Faith was sure she was gonna cum like she did the first night. She was already almost there as Willow held her and they kissed. Faith felt a breeze where her shirt rode up. Any showing skin on her midriff felt like it was being kissed and nipped, but that was impossible.

“Physics,” Willow whispered as if she knew Faith’s thoughts.

Faith’s felt the air of movement and the heat of the crowd. Willow, the little witch, was carrying Faith, the curvy vampire slayer, like she weighed nothing. The witch’s hips swayed in between Faith’s clenched thighs. Every waive, sway, and jerk of Willows body was dancing on Faith’s clit. No, not just her clit, her brain. She was riding a goddess dancing like a snake. Her eyes drunkenly took in the scene. She saw heads dancing a swaying. The balcony, the ceiling. She couldn’t let go if she wanted to but she really didn’t want to. She really hoped Willow wasn’t bored of her.

“Bored?” Willow’s voice was airy, “We haven’t even gotten started and don’t worry I’m getting plenty out of this.”

Faith didn’t know if the colors were real or if she was having visions due to pleasure.

“What—what—“ Faith managed to speak because the pleasure died down a click.

“Magic,” Willow said. Faith realized the song was over.

Faith felt her feet on the ground again. Maybe they had always been there and it was some kind of mind fuck. A good kind of mind fuck. It was a floor sticky with beer. Faith leaned against Willow. Her face was in Willow’s silky strawberry hair. When she opened her eyes all she saw was strands of strawberry wheat. She could feel her own hair slick with sweat.

“Drink,” Willow suddenly moved a paper cup to her lips.

She took some gulps of cool water as her body buzzed.

“Oh, man,” the singer on the stage said, “Is it me or is everyone here just so fucking beautiful?”

Everyone cheered. Faith leaned on Willow. Maybe they could leave and..

“Is it too much already?” Willow pouted.

Faith shook her head.

The cheering was getting louder. Faith tensed against Willow to see what was happening. The singer of Tsnami Bomb was kissing someone. Hey, Faith knew that guy. Connor. Connor was kissing the lead singer of Tsunami Bomb. No, Connor was full on making out with the singer of Tsunami Bomb.

“Well,” Willow spoke and her voice sounded normal again, “Some people have no class.”

She smirked at Faith. Faith looked back at the stage and a bouncer pulled Connor off. Okay, that was weird, right?

“Okay,” the singer said to the crowd, “That was weird.”

“No!” the singer looked down into the crowd, “I started it. Don’t throw him out. Don’t throw him—Him? Right? Him. I started it. I did!”

Faith went to go check out what was going one. Willow grabbed her arm gently.

“You’re not quitting on me already, are you?” she pouted.

“Never,” Faith said.

Faith went into give her a kiss.

“Good, Slayer,” Willow said.

Willow’s voice got weird again or Faith did. At those two words Faith writhed in ecstasy against the witch. Faith was being held up by the witch again. She felt like she was shrinking or like Willow was becoming a giant. Was she? Where were they again?

“You’re at a Tsunami bomb show at the Bottom of the Hill in San Francisco,” Willow’s voice purred again, “It’s April 27, 2009. You’re not shrinking and I’m not becoming a giant. I am really holding you and I can really handle it.”

As if to prove her point Willow swept her off her feet.

“You’re not that heavy and I am magic goddess, and there are a couple of physics tricks that for whatever reason makes you a little cum slut. You love the Superman one.”

It was her voice that was doing it to her. It was in her brain, wasn’t it? Now they were flying around the ceiling of The Bottom of The Hill. Okay, this had to be dream, right? Her whole cunt pulsed like it was a juicy dripping fruit being pumped.

“Okay,” Willow laughed, “Maybe I did a little tweaking and made all the things that make you wet and times them to 129.5%.”

Could people see them?

“Not really. Also, you can be as loud as you want. They can’t hear you up here,” Willow said, “But, we do have to get the punishment part, where I spank you for everything. You little cum slut. You easy little pea…You..”

Faith let out a guttural animal noise. She screamed. She shut her eyes as they twisted in the air. It was something in Willow’s voice. Willow floated her and Faith down to the floor and set Faith down on its stickiness again.

Willow spoke normally now.

“Yes, my voice can be inside your brain. Yes, I guess it is making you cum. That’s new,” Willow giggled, “I can’t exactly read your mind but. I know you.”

“Sorry,” the singer said on the stage, “Sorry about that thing from before, guys. Weird night. You know what? We’re gonna take longer a break.”

Faith saw Connor lurking by the stage. Faith felt oddly protective of him, but she was sure that if the lead singer of Tsunami Bomb was a vampire he could handle it.

A woman ran past Willow and Faith crying. Faith realized she hadn’t seen anyone in the crowd that was upset until now. She turned her body to where to woman was going.

“Don’t be such a superhero Slayer,” Willow said, “She’s fine. She just got into a normal fight with her normal boyfriend. Everything is fine.”

“Witch,” a voice called, “Do you wanted to tell me why everything is buggered?”

It was Spike.

“Oh joy,” Willow said, “It’s Spike being all puritanical. What a surprise.”

“Puritanical?” Faith’s voice was husky from all the cum yelling.

“Yes, bae, baby,” Willow shakes her head and turned to her, “Puritanical and I know you know what it means.”

“You all ri—“ he began.

“She’s fine,” Willow said, “She’s having the best night of her life. What about you? How are you? Let me guess. You’ve actually fallen out of love with Buffy. Not so much due to this last dumping, but more because she really is like a CEO now, and a little boring. You were a little boring when you were with her. It’s not that you want power, but you don’t want to be Hillary Clinton to her Bill, but you can’t admit that because you’re afraid Buffy will think that’s sexist or that you think she’s old. So, that’s why you’ve been fucking MILFs and it’s actually been kind of great. Except now you just banged a rando one in the bathroom and you noticed that it’s kind of weird because you don’t really do that sort of thing anymore. At least not the spanking part with utter strangers so, you’re here to blame me. You think it’s me. That I’ve somehow put a sex whammie on Faith but it spread to the whole place, right?”

Willow speaks this all in one breath and eyes Connor as he walks over to them.

“Yeah,” Spike said, “Mostly, I mean you’re mostly right. But—yeah. So…”

Faith felt felt oddly used, or no, stupid. She should have known this was just Willow doing some magic thing and not…What? Someone who really knew her? As if people had to know people to get them off.

“Well, you’re mostly wrong,” Willow says to Spike. Then she turns to Connor, “and here they come. Hi, they.”

“Hi Willow,” Connor says, “We’ve actually met before and my correct pronoun his ‘he.’”

“Ah ha!” Willow said, “You are from the future!”

“What?” Connor says.

“Pronouns!” Willow said, “No one knows about pronouns yet, buddy!”

The chick that could literally spin Faith delirious in her arms used words like “buddy.” Faith laughed. She couldn’t help it.

“He’s not—“ Faith began.

“I think pronouns have actually been around since the 19th century,” Connor said.

“No! Ha!” Willow said, “18th century.”

“I think it was 1808,” Spike says, “So that would be—“

“How do you—“ Willow began, “Fine. Right. Okay. But, that’s not even--”

“Faith, are you—“ Connor began.

“I’m five by five, kid,” Faith said.

“See!” Willow said, “Now you made her all hurt. Faith, don’t be hurt.”

“I’m not hurt,” Faith says, “Why would I be hurt, red?”

“Because you think I put a sex whammie on you.” Willow said.

“Sex whammie?” Connor said, “Oh, you mean like an arousal spell and then psychic energy spilled over to the collective group. ‘Sex whammie,’ aren’t you a witch?”

“I’m not used to talking to people who understand these things,” Willow said, “and why do you understand these things?”

“Excuse me,” Spike said, “But, I happen to understand these things. I happen to know just when magic goes wonky. I happen to know when your magic goes wonky, which is why you’ve avoided speaking directly to me for fifteen years even when we—“

“Maybe the reason I don’t talk to you is because I know you’re an evil fucking rapist with or without a soul who slowly rips apart every person that I love and the worst part is you don’t even know that you’re doing it!”

“Will—“ Faith began.

“Whoa,” Connor said, “That got dark so fast. Is this how it usually is?”

“Once a year,” Faith says.

“I’m sorry,” Willow said, “I’m sorry but we’ve just done this so many times and Spike never---“ Willow turns to Spike, ”You never trust that it’s not me and it’s really not. I mean, look around. Is everyone having sex? No. That would be a sex spell. What this is, is a temporal disturbance with sexual overtones and it’s coming from him, mostly, kind of.”

Willow points at Connor.

“So you’re—“ Spike began.

“It’s not sexual,” Connor said, “I feel it too, and it is sexual, but it’s more about, I don’t know—So, how many times have you repeated this day?”

“Wha—“

“What?” Willow snaps.

“Oh,” Connor said, “I thought you wanted us to know. You were dropping major hints.”

“Sounds like she’s done it more than once,” Spike says.

“Willow—“

“Are you repeating it?” Connor asked.

“Yeah,” Spike said, “This is my second go.”

“What the fu—“ Faith began.

“No!” Willow said. She grabbed Faith’s face and kissed.

Faith knew she was being drained. It didn’t feel anything like the orgasms she had tonight. She should tell Willow to….

“You know what?” Faith said to Connor, “Don’t explain it, kid. You know me. I’m easy like Sunday morning and I don’t like the hard stuff. I mean, I do like it sometimes, but soft is where it’s at.”

They were at The Bottom of the Hill. Faith had invited Willow out and they ran into Connor. Willow didn’t remember him, which was weird, but she always did have a lot going on.

“Stop,” Willow said.

To her surprise the witch squeezed her leg. They had been having a thing for two weeks, and honestly, it healed a lot of old wounds making Willow’s head spin in bed. Faith figured it would be over soon. B had a lesbian fling, so maybe if they all found out about it, it wouldn’t be so bad. Or maybe it would be since Willow was the one that helped Faith put her new life together, but it was already too late. But, right now this wasn’t too bad.

“One more,” Willow whispered into Faith’s ear.

Willow was actually being a little hellcat today. She was playing her hand pretending to be a dom.

“It’s really isn’t that hard to understand,” Connor said, “Gender is fluid.”

“Oh,” Faith said, “I get that part. It’s the ‘them’ part that’s weird. I would just think you were talking about a demon with a bunch of personalities. Us Slayers are simple girls or I guess simple people. Or maybe that’s just me.”

Connor almost spit out his beer. She really didn’t think she was that funny but she was glad he was having a good time.

“Faith,” Willow said, “Will you come to the bathroom with me?”  
*

“That’s it,” Willow said.

She looked serious and angry. Faith’s brain flashed back to a younger version of her telling her she ruined her life forever.

“What’s it,” Faith checked her eyeliner, “I’ve ruined my life forever because I made one insensitive queer joke. Look, whatever that Jax kid wants to do or be. I’m down. I was just sayin’ pronouns are hard for--”

“Come here,” Willow’s voice buzzed through Faith body.

She dropped her eyeliner and learned against the counter for support.

“Oh, no. That was too hard. Yes,” Willow’s voice was a whisper in her head, “I can make you come with my voice. I can also do so many other things to you.”

The other girl was behind her pushing into her ass fully clothed. She squeezed Faith’s breasts.

“What--?” Faith huffed out a breath.

“I warned you,” Willow whispered, “I did. What did I say?”

Willow was reaching around and into Faith’s pants but she needn’t have bothered. Whatever magic she had was making Faith twitch to her every breath.

“What did I say?” Willow’s voice boomed inside of her.

The walls of her cunt contracted.

“You said—“ Faith didn’t know how she was talking, “You said if I put myself down I’d be punished but—“

“But , you didn’t think I was serious,” she said, “Well, I’m as serious as a heart attack….Unless it too much for you.”

Willow talked in her normal sweet voice and released Faith and stepped away.

“I—I’m down,” Faith said, “I can make it up to you by—“

Faith went to put her own hands down the redhead’s pants.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she said, “No. You’re getting a spanking.”

“A—“ Faith laughed and she also flushed.

Willow sat down on the pale blue plush bench that looked like it had seen it’s heyday in the 70s.

Faith let out a breath. The girl wasn’t serious. She was just going to talk up a spanking to get Faith all wet. That only worked for Faith when whoever it was large and in charge, but Faith could go with it. That magic orgasm voice thing had been enough for now.

“Well,” Willow said.

“Well, mistress,” Faith said, “I’m real sorry you didn’t like what I said and I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Faith got down on her knees and killed Willow’s knee.

“You’ll do that later,” she said, “Now it’s spanking time.”

Faith rose, “You want me-“

“Pull down your pants,” she said.

“Red,” Faith said, “This is a classy place and we’ve got a friend out—“

Before Faith could finish her body flew up. She felt cold air on her ass and she hit something soft on her stomach, but still grunted in surprise.

“Will—“ she tried to roll over, when a sharp sting met her ass. Slap!

“ _You think you can fight this go ahead_ ,” Willow said, “ _and then I’ll spank you out there in front of him!_ ”

Maybe she said it out loud but her voice was all over Faith’s body. She sounded mad. Slap!

“Will,” Faith pleaded, “I’m not—I didn’t—“

Slap!

She was going to say she didn’t do anything, but that was a joke. Of course Willow would always hate her a little for what she’d done as a teenager.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you!” Slap! “Wouldn’t you!“ Slap!

This actually hurt. Faith knew it was one of those times she’d just have to grin and bare it until her fury was done. She actually preferred one of B’s punches to whatever this was but—

“ _No, you wouldn’t,”_ Willow said in her brain. Slap!, “ _You like thinking about her though.”_ Slap! “ _Buffy!” “You love thinking about how she could see you with me. But you wouldn’t want her to see you like this. Would you?”_

Faith screamed in pleasure and pain. She wriggled as pleasure and pain washed over her. She cried out with every slap. Her brain shut off. She knew Willow was asking her things and she was answering saying: yes, yes, yes. But she didn’t even know what she was saying between pulses. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe she had died in jail or in Angel’s mind and this—

“It’s okay, baby,” Willow’s voice cooed, “It’s over now. Here.”

She felt a coolness circle her ass and the pain was gone. Willow handed her some toilet paper as Faith still lay across Willow’s lap. She wiped her snotty nose. She sat up. She had actually cried and any second Willow was going to realize how she wasn’t actually hot but just a busted up—

“God,” Willow said, “You’re so hot. What if I just carry you around on my face for the rest of eternity.”

Faith blushed.

“Damn, Wil—“ she began.

The next thing Faith knew she was in the middle of a scream of ecstasy. She was naked and bouncing up and down on Willow’s lap while the witch’s fingers worked inside of her.

When she was done she rolled over on what she recognized as Willow’s bed.

“Wait, wait—Where—what the--“ Faith’s chest tightened.

“It’s okay, baby,” Willow said, “Is it happening again? What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Last thing—“ Faith went to bolt up.

But Willow held her.

“Just tell me,” Willow said.

“Um,” Faith said, “We were at that show. At—at The Bottom of The Hill and—“

“Yes,” Willow said, “Don’t worry. It’s still the same day. Always. But, that’s right and we-um-did some things. Do you remember what—“

“We met Connor,” Faith said, “Willow what—“

“Connor,” Willow drawled, “Always Connor.”

And then Willow spanked her raw in the bathroom and she’d been mad jealous about Connor then too.

“Willow,” Faith said, “You—um—don’t have to be jealous of Connor. We never—“

“That’s what you keep saying, Faith,” Willow said, “Over and over. But you never seem to be able to tell me what you did do with him!”

“Will—“ Faith began.

She was confused and a little scared if she was being honest.

“And then,” Willow was on top of her now, “Before we really get anywhere you just ooze that vulnerable tough girl thing and I have to have you until…until…”

Willow peppered Faith’s whole body with kisses while her fingers, no, the magic and her fingers worked in her and Faith screamed.

*

“Faith!” Spike came out of nowhere and pulled her into a corner.

“Christ, Spike,” she said, “I could have staked you.”

“Listen to me…” he began.

“Faith,” Willow was looking for her.

“Oh balls,” Spike said.

“What the hell is going on?” Willow snapped.

As if she found her and Spike making out. This is weird. Yes, her and Willow were doing it on the down low, but it had been two weeks.

*

_Day 53 in quarantine and Faith would be in big trouble if people realized she was trying to piece together that night. Well, not so much “big trouble.” These days she’d probably just get an eye roll and a “I have to get back to work and you KNOW that day has nothing to do with what I’m doing now” look. No more: “Oh, girl. You saved my life. I knew I needed you forever after that. How could I not?”_

_Faith loved being on top. But, when she was ignored for too long she still liked to get in big trouble. Big trouble got everyone under your control way more than being a boss did sometimes. Sometimes, Faith wondered what it would have been like if things had gone differently with Willow that day… or days._


	3. The Upstairs of The Bottom of The Hill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faith is dating Willow as she studies to be a cop in San Francisco. It's going pretty good until Spike needs her help: 
> 
> “What? Dude? C’mon,” she wiped her eyes from her tears of laughter, “She’s into me right now, yeah. But, give it another week. I’m just her femme butch bi charity case. She’ll be back to dating rich college girls and earth mother types in no time.“
> 
> “Speaking of time, we don’t have enough for me to pull down your jeans and spank your bare bottom for thinking that witch isn’t lucky as sin to get two weeks of it with you. So…” Spike put up his finger and downed some whiskey.
> 
> Faith made sure she looked straight at him. She ignored her clenching thighs and her wetness. Spike just threatened to spank her because she didn’t think Willow could love her and part of Faith really wanted him to follow through. But, what Faith really wanted was for Spike to know when to stop. Willow hadn’t in that memory. What the fuck? This wasn't like Faith. Okay, okay. This all had to mean something right? Something she should just keep to herself. She just had to convince Spike it wasn’t Willow who was repeating the day. She wanted to be a detective one-day she should be able to figure out something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is queer & kink positive for sure, but you may not like it if: 
> 
> 1) Faith HAS to be a one-dementional TOP all the time. 
> 
> 2) You don't want boys getting involved or giving advice ever. (I'm not saying they ALWAYS give good advice.)
> 
> See tags for rest.

_Faith started touching herself, but stopped. Day 53 in quarantine and Faith realized it was the 50 th day she woke up alone, or at least that’s how it felt. Maybe she didn’t look sexy enough in her Tom Petty T-shirt and nothing else. The sun was shining birds tweeted outside. _

_Did she want someone dressing her up like a brunette Barbie in gold lame binkies so she could parade around for them? Hell no. Not that her ass wasn’t holding up. Still, she was an ancient Slayer almost four decades old. She should feel lucky to be alive. Let alone to be living how she was living. Her sheets had a thread count higher than her IQ._

_***“_ Did she just insult her intelligence, mate?” “I think she did.” “Well, you know that means.” “Back to the bottom again.”***

_Faith suppressed a shutter, a good one, but she still pushed it down. She had stuff to do. She peeled off her Tom Petty T-shirt (RIP, dude.) and got in the shower._

_She had learned the trick of not living too large. The way to stay on top was that you didn’t announce it. You bargained and compromised but not in an all-or-nothing way. You listened to people who cared about you when they told you that you were like everyone else, and that you couldn’t go out slaying during a pandemic. It’s not like there were all that many vamps anymore anyway. So, you got bored just like everyone else and remembered back in the day when everyone made a fuss over you. Was it a bad sign when you wanted to go over the past rather than what happened last night? Faith looked down at her bruised wrist. Probably. She always remembered the beginnings of those nights in 2009, down to the last detail of what was going through her head. It’s the end of those days that gets a little hazy shade of spring. Could anything have been different?_

It was a typical spring night in San Francisco, which meant it was freezing. Faith wish she took her leather jacket instead of her denim one as she walked down Geary Street to get to The Bottom of the Hill. Wow, way to get soft, Boston Girl. To think Faith used to go out in her rolled up schoolgirl uniform skirt to sneak cigarettes with Ronnie. What would Ronnie think of her being a cop?

Ronnie would probably be surprised Faith was alive. As Faith reached The Bottom of the Hill nightclub’s blue neon sign she was never happier to be 2000 miles away from Boston. Faith had looked up Ronnie on that Facebook thing. What she saw was someone she didn’t recognize with Ronnie’s face. Ronnie Deluca had become Veronica O’Leary. She had married Speedy Pete O’Leary and they had a kid or maybe two. What had Faith expected? Not to live to see that. She’d rather face down a zombie-vamp, but they didn’t seem to be around lately. No reports in over a week. It was kind of freaky.

But, Faith decided to take advantage of that and see this cool girl band here. She had just got done with her second week of Police Academy Training. They would need a Slayer on the force with the zombie-vamps and all. B was going through training too, but she had told Faith it wasn’t her long-term plan. Faith was happy that the other Chosen Slayer would get back to her whole world domination/saving thing eventually. It wasn’t that Faith didn’t want B around. Faith was just old and wise enough to know now B wasn’t a working class girl.

Technically, Faith wasn’t a working class girl anymore either. Giles had left her some money, or really he’d given it to her since he was now back from the dead. Faith had already spent a lot of it mostly helping people here and there, and getting B’s slaying ideas of the ground. But there still was plenty left. Whatever half of half of the money was. Willow had been helping her out with money management, and a lot other stuff. So, naturally, Faith had fallen back into her old ways and was paying Willow back the old fashioned way. She knew it wasn’t the best idea, but it just kind of happened. Really, Willow had become her best bud.

“Faith!” The second Faith got her hand stamped Spike came out of nowhere and pulled her into a corner.

“Christ, Spike,” she said, “I could have staked you.”

It was still kind of early and the club was mostly empty, and Spike totally got the drop on her. She really was getting soft, spending too much time flipping cadets over on the training mat. She should go out and search for evil vamps after this. Spike still looked the part with his bleached blonde punk look, but these days he was more of a punk teddy bear, emo, maybe. She’d have to call him that just to rib him. Spike and Faith were bros like that. But, right now he looked grim.

“Listen to me…” he began.

“Faith,” Faith turned and smiled. Willow was looking for her. She had shown up!

“Oh balls,” Spike said.

Willow stomped over with her serious pout. She was pretty damn cute.

“What the hell is going on?” Willow snapped.

As if she found her and Spike making out. This is weird. Yes, her and Willow were doing it on the down low, but it had been two weeks.

“We can’t do this anymore,” Spike said his eyes traveled toward Willow, “It’s her. She’s no good for you.”

Faith’s heart hitched up for a second. Faith had screwed the pooch again and she didn’t even know how. No one knew Willow and Faith were hooking up, and now, Spike did and he’d also lost it or something. Had he said: _We can’t do this anymore?_

Now Willow could assume the worst. That Faith had gone and blown up everyone’s life yet again, and slept with Spike. _What would Willow do to Faith then? She would go way beyond spanking her too hard in the bathroom_. What?! Willow Spanking Faith too hard in the bathroom? That would never happen.

Where the hell did that thought come from? _Slow down, Lehane._ It was okay. The shrink said all thoughts were okay. Just put em’ aside for later.

“Dude,” Faith said, “Not funny.” Then she turned to Willow: “He’s screwing with us. I didn’t. I’d never…”

The opening band started warming up. People talked and laughed around them. Faith couldn’t even say: “ _I’d never screw Spike.”_ She’d deserve more than an ass whipping if she had. It would really be _the_ worst thing Faith could do. Of course Buffy Summers (the girl Faith had practically literally thrown under a bus back when she was a too-old juvenile delinquent before she turned herself in) was the golden Superhero of all the Vampire Slayers. Buffy had personally cleaned Spike up and gotten him good. It was because of Buffy Spike was on the side of good. B really knew how to be on top of him too. The girl had broken up with the vamp three times now.

You see, Buffy had fucked Spike when he had no soul. But it didn’t matter because B’s pussy was so golden it made Spike a good real boy. Faith’s pussy was a bit less powerful, but as of late it had gotten her Willow, who Faith knew could keep her good.

Faith wished these thoughts were sarcastic, but it was all-true. Spike may’ve been fucked into being good, but apparently he was still an asshole to Faith. He was the type that recognized one of his own who needed to be kept in check, but that didn’t mean he could screw with Willow.

“Really not funny,” Faith gave the lean vamp a shove as more people poured into the club.

Willow stood next to Faith speechless with her surprised face. She wasn’t the kind of girl who knew how to deal with wiseass crap. Faith _was_ good for Willow because Faith did know how to deal with it.

“As if I’d ever take B’s sloppy seconds or is it thirds now?” Faith continued to tell off the vampire.

Faith was sure that if she had fucked Spike when he was evil they would have been like two eagles. Fucking at fifty thousand thousand feet while crashing to the ground. She never would have admitted it then, but back in the day he would have won for sure and killed her. But, what a way to go.

“I’m not—“ Spike began giving her no push back to her shoving.

Spike was really way more Faith’s type than Buffy’s. B was about as punk rock as a Jonas brother. But, honestly, even if Faith didn’t have morals, and Willow now, him becoming B’s doormat was a turn off. Faith liked being on top (most of the time. Willow had really thrown her the first time they hooked up, literally. Luckily, she didn’t have to think about it because Willow was pretty much her pillow princess now.) But, you had to give Faith a challenge to be on top.

“I’m not—“ Spike repeated. He looked like shit.

“You’re not what?” Faith said.

Yeah, Faith still had thoughts like this, thoughts about topping Spike and other people. She was always going to. That was okay because she’d also learned that she had good thoughts. She could still have a little wicked streak in her. Spike clearly still had a wicked streak in him. Too bad Spike’s steak was a wicked passive-aggressive one. Or it was all good because Faith would never think of Spike as any kind of sexy again. She was with Willow and it _was_ good. Too good to last, but that wasn’t his business.

“A homophobic a-hole?” Faith continued, “Oh. Oh man, I’m so stupid! You’re a….”

The opening band announced their name over Faith’s swears. She realized Spike’s game too late. Of course he knew she and Willow were together, vampires can smell that shit. He was trying to get Faith and Willow to admit they were hooking up, by acting like something was going on between him and Faith. That would be like him, and it would be like Faith to find that shit funny. The thing is Willow wouldn’t find it funny. Willow was sensitive about stuff like this.

“God damn it, Spike!” Faith said.

Faith was going to beat his ass.

“Faith, no!” Willow cried before Faith threw her fist, “You can’t start a fight in here. You’ll get kicked out of the academy.”

Faith turned to Willow. This was why Faith needed her and why Willow really didn’t need her. The band began playing a fast up-tempo song. Faith walked Willow back a few feet to a corner of the club that had couches and old photos hanging in funky frames.

“I’m sorry, Will,” Faith said, “I didn’t tell him anything. He’s screwing with us. He can smell that we hooked up, but I shouldn’t have admitted it. I’m such a--“

“You’re not anything, but my girl,” Willow said she brushed back Faith’s hair and caressed her face.

“What?” Faith said.

Willow stroked Faith’s hair and smiled. _Her girl?_

“You heard me,” she said, “You stuck up for me. For us, and don’t worry about wanting to hit him. Buffy used to hit Spike for fun all the time, but this isn’t Sunnydale or The Bronze. We’re adults now. Well, maybe not Spike, but, I think something else is going on with him.”

“I don’t know what’s going on with him and I don’t—“ Before Faith could finish Spike bounded up to them.

“But she does,” Spike pointed his finger, “Don’t you, witch? How many days in are you in now? You can’t lie! I saw it. I saw you all jealous! You ran up and demanded to know what was going on. ”

“What?” Willow looked as surprised as Faith felt, “I—I just wanted to know why Faith skipped her classes today and—and—What?”

“I didn’t skip my classes today,” Faith said.

Willow really wanted Faith to succeed at this police academy thing. It was sweet. _Her girl_. She was like Faith’s concerned schoolteacher. The type that was stern in the classroom, but Faith’s passive princess in bed, and that was how they both liked it. For these past two weeks. It probably wouldn’t last anyway. What was important was that Faith really wanted to succeed the whole police academy thing, and she wouldn’t skip class. Faith’s roommate Rose probably was checking up on Faith too and sometimes she just assumed the worst.

“Did Ro tell you that,” Faith said, “Sometimes she…”

A hand clamped down on Faith’s wrist. It was Spike’s.

“Great,” Spike said as he walked Faith back, “So, that’s all settled. Hey, sorry about what I said. I got mixed up. Long day. Very long. Making surprise party baby show plans for Dawn. Speaking of, I need to burrow the Slayer for just a sec to talk about…balloons.”

He said all of this in one breath like he’d been taking Dr. Who talking lessons. He walked backwards and looked at Willow.

“Dawn’s preg…”

A group of people came between Willow and Faith and Spike. Spike ran with Faith across the funky tile floor. He weaved by people in scattered groups. Before Spike dragged her up the stairs to the second floor. Faith saw made brief eye contact with the woman in the disability scooter and purple hair that she’d seen around The Mission. She reminded Faith of her mother.

“Spike,” Faith cried and wrenched her arm away from him, “What the fuck are—“

“Okay, so. Long story short we’ve been living the same day for a year. Sometimes you remember. Sometimes you don’t. Lots of things have happened. You’ve died for me; I’ve died for you. Other people have-- None of it matters. Well, a lot of it matters. It’s just it all resets and—“ he huffed a breath, “and it has to stop. So, I’m doing this.”

He took out a silver baseball sized sphere and through the silver ball down on the floor. He grabbed her hand before she could pull away again the room filled with green and black light trails. They narrowed her vision and in an instant they were all she could see. They pulsed. Faith’s body clenched and she folded her lips to not cry out. A memory unfolded slowly from the corner of her mind.

It wasn’t Willow spanking her in the bathroom in this club. It wasn’t Willow spin-magic-fucking her until she was delirious. Faith had no idea why she’d forgotten that. That had been awesome. (Maybe Willow could of stopped a little sooner but…) This memory was something horrible huge like a pool of black tar with a drowned scream. It was…The green and black splotched lifted and flew away. They looked like fairies. Fairies flying around The Bottom of the Hill, which kind of almost went with the club’s Pee Wee’s Playhouse look. Only the club’s bright yellow colored walls and funky string and lantern lights seem to curl at the edges like paper. A form made of some kind of smoke sailed to and through Spike before Faith could move. It hissed some angry word in an ancient language at him. 

“Oh thank god,” he said.

“Thank god?” Faith looked at him.

“It hurts no one,” he said, he gestured to the empty club, “See? Now all we have to do is fight the bad sprites and jump through the portal. It’s in the downstairs bathroom. The bad news about that is …”

He was still doing the fast-talking thing. There was this huge thing that looked more like a giant moth than anything, but Faith saw that it had teeth and it was circling and getting closer to them. Faith took out her knife from her boot.

Spike continued: “…and then there might be—“

“ey! David Tennant!” Faith yelled, “Just tell me: What is that?”

“It’s okay,” he said, “That’s a good one. It won’t hurt you.”

“A good one?” Faith said.

“A good sprite,” Spike said, “Weren’t you listening, Slayer?”

“Yeah, a little,” Faith said, “Repeating day. Only you could remember. Sometimes I did. Shit happened. You blame Willow but, it’s not her.”

Faith eyed the “good” sprite. There was something familiar about its flying pattern. Was it going where Willow and Faith had flown-fucked? Had that really happened? Faith wasn’t gonna lie; she could get used to that. But the spanking...it had turned more into something else. The more Faith thought about it she wasn’t really into the spanking. Willow was really into her though, but it seemed like Willow didn’t remember the repeating days anymore. So, Faith wouldn’t have to have the awkward “I’m-a-big-dom-wuss-who-can-dish-it-out-but-can’t-take-it; don’t spank me just fly-fuck me” conversation. So… It was only when Spike grabbed her arm Faith realized she had been staring only at the good sprite.

“Get behind me,” he said.

Faith could feel that something was about to happen. She knew Spike didn’t mean that she was to stand behind him for protection. She stood with her back to his.

The walls of the club started moving in odd patterns. Then walls broke away into more moths. Only these were bigger and left nothing but a trail of what looked like blurred decay behind them. The walls look distorted and rotted. The bright paint that once shown with happy funk looked dimmed. It was as if the moths took their shimmer away as they held on to the colors and patters of the club. Faith heard a ringing and saw that the shattered ball that Spike had thrown was coming together into something that Spike took hold of. It was silver and gleaming. It solidified as a huge sword.

“Dude,” Faith looked at her little knife, “Not fair.”

“This is inter-dimensional combination magic,” he said, “I don’t think it’s supposed to be fair, love.”

One of the big moth creatures swooped in. It’s wings were made up of half a poster and the purple of one wall. Faith saw that it had a mouth. A mouth that looked like an endless black hole with pointy teeth that went all the way down it in an endless spiral. Before it could get any closer Faith threw her knife and pinned the creature to the decayed blurred wall. It sounded like a piece of paper being pinned to a wall. Faith heard loud tearing noises and saw that was the sound of Spike hacking at the creatures. But the tears didn’t sound right. Maybe it was their screams.

“Faith!” Spike tossed her the sword and she caught it.

She stabbed as many of the nasty moth creatures as she could. She felt a piercing pain that started at her thigh and circled down her leg. She heard herself grunt but kept moving the sword in the pattern she knew the creatures would fly. Spike was ripping them up behind her with his bare hands. It sounded like more like tearing flesh now. She was getting really into it. She stepped forward and found nothing under her foot. She looked down to see the funky maroon and blue tiles that made up the floor spill into nothingness. Firmness circled her waste and spun her to the side. It was Spike’s arm. He had stopped her from going the way of the crumbling floor of the club.

“Last call for upstairs, love,” Spike said in her ear.

Love? Faith had either done something really right or really wrong in this repeating day thing. Probably wrong. But Faith had no time to think about it as she stabbed at the moth things with an angry cry because they were still coming for them. She could feel their anger, like it was some personal hatred against her.

Right when they were on the edge of the steps Spike cried out in pain. She had to grab him so he didn’t collapse.

“Bugger got in my boot!”

Spike kicked off his Doc Martin. One of the sprites was inside and his foot was pointing the wrong way.

It jumped to go to Spike’s face with it’s infinite swirl of teeth, but Faith hacked it in half.

Faith realize the entire upstairs was crumbling because the whole room had turned into the winged creatures. Spike looked up at her with a sad smile she didn’t recognize.

“Go!” he said, “Get to the bathroom. You’ll—uh--”

Before he could finish she threw him over her shoulder and carried him down the stairs running as fast as she could backwards stabbing the last of the sprites on the crumbling stairs. As the stairs disintegrated so did the sword in her hand. Luckily, the sprites did too. A grey wall with strung up fairy lights formed where the stairs had been. It was like the upstairs of the club didn’t exist.

“Huh, ,” Spike was still over her shoulder like a well muscled sack, “Looks like the bathroom doesn’t exist for us yet. But, the good news is the bar does. Might as well…”

Glasses clinked as dropped him on the bar roughly. She glanced behind her and saw nothing but black space where the back of the club should be.

“Thanks,” he sat up on the bar, “That was so grand and so you.”

“Don’t look at me all goopy eyed. That may work on B but I’m not your knight in shinning armor. I’m fucking pissed at you.”

The place had stopped crumbling. It was eerily silent. She knew a normal person, maybe even a better Slayer, would demand answers. But she knew in her gut Spike was doing right. He was wrong about Willow though and this was her window to convince him of that.

“Yeah,” he said, “I know. I know you’ll probably never get all your memories back from the days either but…You don’t want ‘em.”

She got the burning hot sex memories of her and Willow back. But, she wasn’t about to tell Spike that. Those had to happen on different days. Clearly this repeating day thing made people switch up their roles in the sheets or something.

“Lemme see you’re foot,” she said.

“S’aright,” he said. He grabbed his foot twisting it the right way with a bone crunch, “Good as new.”

“Want a drink?” he asked as he swiveled his body off the bar and behind it.

“That and for you to listen,“ she said.

He smiled a huge smile. It gave her a memory of someone else who smiled at her in this bar, but she couldn’t place it.

“Funny,” he said, “You think you’d have the questions but—“ his smile fell apart, “Balls! You’re bit.”

She hadn’t forgotten about her bite. It was stinging anew as the adrenaline wore off.

“Yeah,” she said, “Uh-oh. Does that mean I’m going to die a horrible death and turn into a fairy zombie and you have to start the whole day over?”

“No!” he roared and slammed his hands on the bar, “Don’t—don’t joke about that! No!”

She drew away.

“I—I’m sorry,” he said, “I—I’m not gonna—Come have a drink, yeah?”

“It’s cool,” she sat at the bar stool, “Man, you’ve really been through some shit, huh? Seen a lot of crew members die?”

“You could say that,” he said, “You never told me you’d been through a repeating day before.”

“I haven’t,” Faith said, “I just watch Star Trek, and Groundhog Day, and Christmas Do Over.”

“Christmas Do Over?” he tilted his head.

She drank her whiskey.

“Me and Giles watched it a couple of years ago. It has a happy ending.”

“So will this, I promise. We just need to go into the bathroom and do it all over from The Bottom of the Hill. We’ll take in the show. Have a few laughs and put you to bed.”

“Put me to bed?” she said, “Do I get to be tucked in?”

“Yes,” he said like it was a normal question.

“Spike—“ she began.

“You didn’t do this, Slayer,” he said, “You didn’t do anything wrong. You just got caught up in it and whatever it is or was it over now, and you can live your life and—“

“And stay away from Willow because you think she caused it?” Faith said, “She didn’t. You heard her. You saw her she was as freaked out as I was. You know she’s the worst liar of all of them.”

“Even if she was never directly responsible for it and no longer remembers a thing she can’t be trusted, Slayer,” he said.

“What? Why?” she said.

“Because she thinks she owns you and she’s willing to destroy the world and kill everyone in it to have you.”

Faith laughed loudly.

“Yeah,” Spike’s voice had a bitter twist, “That’s usually what you always say at this part.”

He said it as if she responded with words. He sipped his whiskey with bitterness and it made Faith laugh more.

“What? Dude? C’mon,” she wiped her eyes from her tears of laughter, “She’s into me right now, yeah. But, give it another week. I’m just her femme butch bi charity case. She’ll be back to dating rich college girls and earth mother types in no time.“

“Speaking of time, we don’t have enough for me to pull down your jeans and spank your bare bottom for thinking that witch isn’t lucky as sin to get two weeks of it with you. So…” Spike put up his finger and downed some whiskey.

Faith made sure she looked straight at him. She ignored her clenching thighs and her wetness. Spike just threatened to spank her because she didn’t think Willow could love her and part of Faith really wanted him to follow through. But, what Faith really wanted was for Spike to know when to stop. Willow hadn’t in that memory. What the fuck? This wasn't like Faith. Okay, okay. This all had to mean something right? Something she should just keep to herself. She just had to convince Spike it wasn’t Willow who was repeating the day. She wanted to be a detective one-day she should be able to figure out something.

“Spike,” Faith said, “Let’s think about this logically. Tell me everything you do remember.”

“I can’t,” he said.

“I’m sure it was rough but we need to figure this shit out,” she said, “If I wanna be an actual detective one day---“

“Mir hunn en Dräi-Wee, Dir, ech a Connor,” Spike talked gibberish at her, “an et ass dee beschten Geschlecht a Léift, deen ech jeemools gemaach hunn an d'Hex hëlt dech entweder ëm oder bréngt eis all probéiert.”

“How much whiskey have you had?” she said.

“Not enough,” he said, “That’s what happens when I try to talk about the memories in detail. We think it’s a mix of Luxembourgish and some unknown language.”

“Holy shit,” Faith said, “Well, maybe I should tell you what I remember. I do remember Willow being a bit more—frisky-- in this place.”

“Yeah,” Spike eyes pierced her, “I’m sure you felt it. There was something about whatever was goin’ on that made some people’s desires come out and play.”

Faith didn’t look away.

“And since you’ve been doing it for a year—“

“Three hundred and sixty-six days,” he said.

“You’re as horny as a vampire in a nunnery?”

“I said it was desire, not sex,” he said.

“What’s the difference?”

Maybe Faith should look at this more, if she wanted be a good detective. Why did people seem to spank her? No. Spike was just kidding. Why was it sticking in her head? She was up for anything sure, but she wasn’t really a bottom. Sure she had faked her enthusiasm through a bunch of ass slaps with people. Yeah, she did cum pretty hard when Robin played the strict principal and slapped her ass, but she’d still been on top when he did that. But…she had almost blown up with what Willow did with her the first time, but that was magic. Okay. What was different? The difference was she had stuck around long enough for people to actually know her.

“Desire can bend people’s reality, make them think they’re doing right.”

“Believe me, what Willow did with me wasn’t wrong. Unless you’re one of those people that thinks girls know how to screw girls better than you are evil.”

“I’m sure that’s why bad men really burned good witches and I don’t wanna burn the witch, Slayer. I just think we have to stop her.”

“Stop her from what? Spanking me too hard in the bathroom?” Faith had not meant to say that out loud, but she wasn’t going to give Spike the satisfaction of kink shame.

“I dunno,” Spike said, “Maybe. I have no idea what will save the world. I just know we can’t keep doing it anymore or reality will disintegrate. Did you tell her to stop?”

“Huh?”

“When it got too hard? Did you tell the witch--”

“No, I was into it,” she said, “I mean anyone good with kink has to be able to switch and…”

She had liked it being thrown across Willow’s lap, not knowing it was going to happen. Not knowing what was going to happen, and Willow telling her she had been listening to her and watching her. Really listening to her, so Faith didn’t have to listen to herself. Faith loved _pretending_ to struggle. Faith liked knowing it was pretend. That Willow couldn’t hurt her, no, that Willow _wouldn’t_ hurt her. But then she did. Only a little. Damn, she was getting soft! But, it wasn’t just the hits. It was the fact that she couldn’t move…and whatever Willow kept asking her.

“Faith?” Spike’s face was serious.

Faith hadn’t remembered what Willow was demanding of her. Faith remembered she just said yes. She felt humiliated. Hadn’t she been humiliated enough as the fallen Slayer? _As the fourteen year old bull-dyke with her face shoved in shit dirt and her hair being hacked-off as Ronnie laughed. As the girl begging for her mother’s life. She was so young but she knew what that cop wanted and if that female cop hadn’t shown up…_ But she’d lived through it.

“What?” Faith said, “I was! And—and if the world depends on me saying ‘no’ and-and you just being you were screwed.”

She remembered someone saying something about rulers being bad lovers and vice versa. Maybe she should sell her libido for a kingdom if this world saving shit was going to need her. Really, she just wanted to be a good cop, because she knew there were so many bad ones.

“Faith,” Spike said.

“Look.” She hopped down from the barstool.

“It looks like the room is done baking or forming and you said we just have to go into the bathroom, right?”

She walked toward the back of the club. Noticing how much bigger it felt without people. She turned to Spike following her.

“Let’s just see how it goes,” she said, “We’ll go back and do whatever were supposed to do tonight and whether I’m right wrong at least I know someone will spank me.”

Spike followed her into the bathroom. It was empty with the mirror with golden swirls. She turned to Spike.

“Isn’t some cool magic shit going to—“

Suddenly her leg buckled and burned with the pain of a thousand fire ants. She had thought her Sprite bight had healed. In all her days as a Slayer and before she couldn’t remember a pain so grueling. She was barely aware of being laid on a hard surface and her jean leg ripping up from the ankle.

She felt a great relief and a thread pulling through he thigh. She felt a tickle in her throat and realized it was a groan. The feeling went from relief to, a lightness, an bliss, that she had felt before. It was the same orgasmic feeling she had felt when Willow was fly fucking her on the ceiling. Only now she was more aware. She was aware Spike, a vampire who had killed two Slayers, was sucking blood out of her wounded thigh and Faith body responded by cumming so hard it shook. This really was the best way to go.

“I—I’m sorry,” a voice shook, and Faith shared its agony, it’s shame too, but mostly the fucking agony because the moment Spike stopped sucking at her wound her leg exploded with pain.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded, “Please, Spike, don’t stop.”

She knew how sorry he was. He didn’t have to tell her he was saving her from utter anguish and death by sucking on her bite. She knew he didn’t have a choice between letting her die or making her cum. Faith knew Spike understood the pain of all or nothing and how she had to be weak and take the pleasure. Maybe it would kill her. But, once he penetrated her wound she was in ecstasy again. Faith didn’t know how long she forgot her own name. Her own miserable existence.

All she knew was how fucking good it felt and how it was saving her from Hell.

_* Faith leaned back in the shower and looked at the faint scars on her thigh. Wasn't that what your twenties was for? Figuring out you didn't have to be one thing or another and surviving the pain and pleasure of a day that got out of control? Hell if she knew. Sometimes she wondered why she hadn't died that night. Other people did, but she never remembered one of them being her. She remembered how she thought that had to be the worst (and the best) of it. Oh, what a naive little, lamb. *_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Power dynamics, ethical AI questions, and hot spanking thoughts.

Faith knew the bot was in the room before she stepped out of the shower. She stopped thinking of her reckless redemption 20s and her bite scars from eleven years ago. She stopped thinking of The Bottom of the Hill days as she named them. She stopped thinking about how wonderful and horrible it was to be taken care of when she had thought it was way too late. Now it was too late and Faith had to be the one to take care of things.

She grabbed a pink fluffy towel and dried herself. The bot seven feet away from her at the aqua blue titled sink was staring at the water coming out of the faucet with her large round-swelled eyes. Faith thought toweling off in front of a bot was like being naked in front of the family pet. If the family pet was full of wind up gears that sounded like an 80s Mattel doll. Maybe it was a Slayer thing. Maybe everyone could hear the movement of the bots’ gears. They did seem loud. Faith smirked as she rapped the towel around herself. It must be so frustrating for the “boys” in hardware to not be able to figure the bot shit out.

Faith had never seen the “seamless” bots made by what seemed like exclusively evil white dudes and/or their corporations back in the day. She knew the funny stories of the Buffy-Bot. Faith also knew exclusively evil white dudes were the ones in a rage that they couldn’t get back the tech that had been oh-so-mysteriously lost to make “passable AI.” Faith knew that if she had seen the Buffy-Bot back in the day she’d have acted as evil as any man, only she wouldn’t have been smart enough to maintain the bot. Faith would have just been “acting” evil and smart. Funny how all you had to do was act evil to be it, but smart was a lot harder. Funny how smart evil people often wanted the same things as dumb ones and it usually came down to tits.

“What are you doing here, Clem?” Faith looked down at her own breasts and rewrapped her towel. Her breasts were a touch bigger since the years she had been with Clem and a touch less firm.

Clem looked like a sex doll come to life. In all the worst ways. The bot was wearing a long schoolmarm skirt and dark frumpy shirt, but Faith could see the future. She could see what Clem would be born out of this.

This bot (this thing) wasn’t her Clem, of course, the Clem she knew. The Clem who she had rescued and who had rescued her. The Clem she had to leave on the blue steel baloon ship. There was a resemblance. It was as if someone had taken Faith’s (darling) Clementine and encased her in rubber. Faith’s Clem had a longer nose and eyelashes that brushed against her neck in the barracks at night.

“I’m just washing my hands,” the bot said.

The bot was rubbing her hands together with soap as the water ran beside them. Faith went over to the sink.

“You---you’re not doing it right,” Faith grumbled, “Here.”

These bots were a real shit show; like broken Alexas or Google Homes only they walked and talked.

“Your hands are soft, Mrs. R,” she said.

“Mrs. R,” Faith said, “Who told you to call me that?”

She gently pulled the bot’s hand under the faucet.

“I don’t know right now,” the bot said, “Maybe I can answer your question later. What I can do is help you with fractions.”

“Uh-huh.”

Of course Faith had a bit of a flashback (or was it forward; it depended on who you asked) of her Clem. When her Clem hung down from her arms her hair tickled Faith’s bruised legs like ribbons. Of her Clem and _him_. Of course, if she let herself dip down into those memories too long all she could think of were cold white hands with midnight veins tossing her like a ragdoll between worlds or maybe just time. Maybe there really was one world, one future, and all of those memories were just dreams. But maybe, just maybe, it was all worth it because she had found Clem, and Clem had led her to...

The door opened with a squeak. Everything in this place was new and modern as fuck, and yet the doors squeaked.

“What do you want?” Faith demanded to the face on the other side.

A dark-haired man with quarantine stubble, who would say to her thoughts: _It’s not quarantine. It’s shelter-in-place._ Prison is as prison does, and lately Faith realized she had been freer in other prisons.

“Is there Ibuprofen in here? Not Aspirin but Ibuprofen.”

The man’s eyes flashed for a moment and traveled down Faith’s body another moment. Faith tensed. She was holding this Clem’s hands as innocently as she would a child’s. But, his big round eyes, not so different from the once and future Clem’s, held all his man thoughts as the traveled places no one invited them to.

_You know, those eyes are wasted on that punch-able face; not to mention a penis._ Face folded in a smirk at her memory. A memory of when she still held out hope. He really did have a punch-able face and she could still punch with the best of them. For now she’d get him his fucking painkiller.

“Yeah,” Faith tightened her towel and reached over the Clem-bot at the sink and opened the mirror medicine cabinet, “Why? Is it the ironic cure to the virus?”

She got the Advil and threw it at the dark haired man he caught it. The Clem-bot just stared at her hands under the water.

“No that’s bleach,” he said, “Didn’t you here? The president says so. You should drink some.”

“No!” the Clem-bot gasped, “Bleach is poison. It will kill you. Don’t—“

“Clem,” the guy ordered, “Override safety response, dry your hands, and go back to the kitchen to help Kiaya with math.”

_It will kill you._ Faith thought of the Clem she knew. _If you harm an innocent synth godfather will punish you. Same as a human. If you kill an innocent synth godfather will kill you. Same as a human. The demons are a more complex matter. You have killed three. Godfather is interested in you and so am I._ It was in the raise of her eyebrow that Faith knew how interested she had been. At that time it had seemed like a choice to go with Clem, and it had been.

Now the Clem-bot obeyed the man and went to the hand towel rack.

“Hey,” Faith said, “The bot was trying to save my life. So, you want me to drink bleach. You’re tired of holding me prisoner, Lex Luther with good hair?”

“No one is holding you prisoner,” he said, “We just know you have a genetic make-up that makes you high risk.”

“Yeah, in real prison I had more sex.”

“You were the one who cut me—“

“In real prison they listened to me more!”

“Faith,” he sighed did an eye roll and walked into the bathroom, “We’ve been over this…”

Faith ignored him and watch the Clem-bot walk out the door, which he shut. She was alone in a bathroom with a Silicon Valley dude who didn’t like the word “no.” Luckily, she was over thirty.

“Are you sure you made her skinny enough?” Faith said sarcastically about the bot.

“Why?” he said, “Is whoever she reminds you of curvier? Some girl you never told me about.”

She could tell him the Clem she knew had been made of steel and not in the way this one was. But, it would be more fun to poke at him. She sat on the closed toilet bowl.

“I thought the point was that she could remind people of anyone. Like a doll from that place we shut down,” she said, “You know the one Willow, Spike, and I shut down back in—“

“You’re bringing up Dollhouse? Now?” he said as he casually opened the Advil, “and you know it wasn’t just you, Spike, and _her_ , that shut it down. You were just there at the end and we all know how well it got cleaned up in the long run so…”

He stuck an Advil in his mouth.

“So, you’re gonna lecture me about something from over ten years ago. Something you didn’t help with,” Faith said, “Something that you stole from so it’ll all end up the same but with you on top.”

“You were the one that bro-it--p…” he talked with the Advil in mouth and dry swallowed it, “Why aren’t these gels? You know I hate everything that’s not gels.”

He pushed his way to the sink and cupped his hands and swallowed water.

“Maybe Clem could go shopping for you since I’m holed up here,” she got up and picked up her Tom Petty shirt, “Maybe she can home school the kid, clean the house, be your arm candy, and do everything else that you—“

“Faith,” he grumbled, and then paused, “You’re still wearing that? You have other clo—“

“No,” she said, “You have your bot in my house, Connor! Which we all know is really your house. You don’t get to tell me what to wear.”

Faith pulled down her T-shirt over her bare breasts. It fell like a mini-dress over her ass and two inches above her knee. She had worn way shorter skirts. Connor drummed his fingernails on the counter. Faith remembered him keeping the calm on another bathroom counter. He was so calm and _reasonable_. Like his father. Of course, the witch had been right. There was no such thing as love at first sight, but there was love, a high, inside helplessness, when you remembered who your friends were and that they really were good friends. Too good.

_The strongest warriors need protecting and saving from gods. He’s not worthy to protect you. He won’t! He can’t! With his reason! With him you will betray your whole army I built._

_**Slam!** The saying goes: A kiss with a fist is better than none. Not a kiss with a reason is better than treason. _

Faith shut her eyes to the bathroom light and her ears off to the past. Why was everything all or nothing? And why was it still that way now that she was old and things were boring? Faith went towards the door that led to the bedroom. The one she slept alone in now. He casually walked in front of the door. He was one of those ass-hats that was still bothering to wear jeans during this pandemic thing.

“I don’t know when you decided I became everything that we’ve spent the past ten years fighting,” he said “The reason I’ve been busting my ass is so all of those things won’t happen. That bot doesn’t have---“

“A pussy or an ass, or even skin that feels real, I know,” she said, “Do you think that will stop any pervert? If you let people do things to things that look like people then they’ll do people like things.”

He caressed her face like he always did, sweeping down and under her chin. She could be mad at herself for leaning into his touch. The old her would be. _Your body is a survival machine, love. Sometimes it makes bad feel good to keep you alive. It’s better than bein’ dead like me._

“I was going to say ‘That bot doesn’t have the ability to pass the turning test,’” Connor said, “but I like what you said better. Who said that? It’s smart.”

“Me, right now, so it couldn’t be too smart.”

She went to push past him.

“Really?” he swatted her ass and cupped it like soft fruit, “Why not?”

She bit her lower lip. She really hadn’t meant to say that. Faith had forgotten the game. The one where if she said something _truly_ self-deprecating she faced consequences. Probably Connor had actually long forgotten too and he was just grabbing her ass. _For dominance; it’s all about dominance. No one knows that better than you, F—_

“Because I’m the idiot who gets over run by you.” She pushed passed him gently enough and she was proud of herself.

She started Marie Kondo folding a laundry basket of clothes as he sighed at her.

“You want go through all of this again?” he stood by her, “Okay. We have to make them the way we make them now.”

Connor didn’t know it wasn’t a game that originated between the three of them, The-Faith-gets-in-trouble-when-she- _truly_ -puts-herself-down-game. They had never named the game. Or announced they were playing. But, Connor had won the game by being the best at it and now he had turned into her smug lecturer as she folded clothes..

“We have to lock all the tech up and in and we have to supply the market with something or else the demand--”

“Blah, blah, blah, Ivy-league-marketing-class blah,” Faith said, “You were sick of seeing all the dirty old men get rich.”

“I was,” he said, “and so were you so—“

“So,” she sat on her queen bed, “I didn’t agree to have bots in my fucking house!”

“I didn’t know we were going to have a pandemic and a moron in charge, so, I had to bring it home. Besides home-schooling isn’t really your thing. Clem is safe. She has the strength of a house cat and…”

She talked over him as he went on about how Clem-bot was safer than a Roomba.

“You might as well be saying this is your house, and you’ll do what you want, and it’s not safe for me to leave,” Faith hugged her knees, “and I’m just some dumb white trash chick that should keep her mouth shut, because you know everything, and have robots, and AIs that tell the future; and this is all starting to feel familiar. At least _she_ didn’t ignore me.”

Wow, Lehane. She couldn’t remember the last time she said something so toxic. She stroked her thigh scar. It felt good. What would he do? Probably be reasonable.

_I warned you,_ The voice from the past said. But whose voice it really was and where it was really from was always fuzzy. At least it wasn’t as fuzzy as Faith had been at The Bottom of the Hill. They started calling it The Bottom of the Hell after that day, but, Faith hadn’t actually found that time to be like Hell at all. This time was actually more Hell-ish.


	5. Like it’s 1999

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In 2009  
> Faith remembers a spell gone wrong, her first love gone wrong, and she knows people aren't fighting over her like she's Buffy. Something is wrong.

2009

Best. Death. Ever.

Faith’s brain rose to consciousness and she knew she was gonna die.

She was going out the way she not-so-secretly wanted once. By being bitten by a hot vamp after fighting him? No.

They had been working together? Trying to do something and then…

Oh shit-oh god! She could feel her whole body shake on the hard surface. She could feel ever vein shake and want to gather around where the vamp’s teeth double pierced her. It was like she was a wall of Christmas lights and his teeth were the plug and his hungry sucking lips moved the electricity of her blood.

Her brain went back to all her best fucks in no particular order. Shit! Robin rubbing her clit raw and then putting her on top of him for an hour.

The things Willow had said to her their first time: _If you had let him save you I would have saved you from him. I’d take you away._

Kenny going down on her backstage. Ronnie giving Faith the first one she ever had in the woods behind the school as she smoked. Fuck! The time Willow surprised her in da club (this club?)

The three-way with Steve and that hippie girl. Then Spike…Spike held her hips so gently over some immense pleasure of another mouth.

What?! A dream. A sweet death dream. She didn’t care. Willow flying her around and saying things that made her—HER, the slut-bomb blush and Spike and that mouth mixed in her mind. This was her orgasmic death spiral.

Sure, part of her was screaming and fighting. They had always said she was a tease. Why would death be any different? She felt a pull at the amazing fang plug and shuttered in pain. No! She had to hold the plug. She grabbed on to its hair. She wasn’t a tease! It hurt. It hurt. It fucking hurt.

_“Leave her alone. Don’t you know she’s a dyke?”_ _Ronnie cried._

_Faith Lezzie Lehane was no tease. She kicked Scott straight in the balls._

She felt a pulling a struggle. Was she holding someone’s head?

_No! It was her head in the dirt, her hair ripping. She couldn’t breath. Kick! Kick! Crack! Kick! She was going to die and they were laughing. Darkness was all she saw with her face pushed into the ground. Some big and black and even worse was over her head._

A light was on a wall. She could see a mirror reflecting a framed picture of a dog with a cigarette and glasses. Was there crying? Was she in someone’s bathroom? She couldn’t open her eyes. Her throat felt scraped with sobs.

“I’m sorry, Faith,” a voice said.

“ _Faith, get up!“ Ronnie was pissed._

“It’s okay, Faith. Don’t try to get up.”

She had fucked up again.

_She was in Ronnie’s car. Her brother’s old Camaro. Maybe in 18 months when Faith could get her permit Ronnie would let her drive it._

“ _Stop fucking crying. I did it to save you, you dumb bitch!”_

_“What if I said that about you? What if I told them how we—“_

_“So,” Ronnie’s face twisted, “You wanted me to go down too! Is that it?”_

_As if anyone would ever dream of kicking Veronica Deluca. It wasn’t because she lived on the one nice street in Roxbury. It wasn’t even because of her brothers. It was because she was so beautiful like Alicia Silverstone. She didn’t look like she belonged in Boston, but the magical faraway place of Beverly Hills, California._

_“No, Ronnie, I just—“_

_“You have to get tougher, Faith,” she said, “Not that I care and if you ever told anyone we were lezzing out together no one would believe you and I really couldn’t save you then.”_

_Faith didn’t even care if she got beat up, or at least that’s what she used to think. The pain was bad and it just kept coming that time. It was like the times her father had hit her with a wooden spoon. She had always cried._

_She had always done it too herself. The next day at school Ronnie ignored her. But, Faith knew in a few weeks Ronnie would forgive her and they would meet up again. She had to get stronger! She had to learn to not feel the pain! She had to start thinking about herself. Maybe then Ronnie would think more of her._

“Faith, stay with me!” a voice said.

What? Why? It fucking hurt! She was in bathroom and why? All she could see was the light on the ceiling and the mirror. It hurt! Why had they made the pain come back? This fucking life come back? The one she always convinced herself she wanted because if she tried hard enough she could make it good. No, she could make herself good, but clearly she was a piece of… A force clamped on to her. A good one. She stopped screaming. She had been screaming. But, the pain stopped. No, it was still there but the pressure choked it down. It was her leg. All the action happened on the front of her thigh.

That sprite thing with the spiral mouth had bit her and it had been fine. Spike said they just had to go to the bathroom and that it would send them back to the right, dimension, or time-space or whatever-the-fuck. Who was Faith to argue?

Spike was a pain in the ass, but when he said something had to be done to save the world he was usually right, unlike her. That was another reason she’d make a better cop. Let other people be sure of what was going on. Faith couldn’t even remember if he had said they were saving the world of if had just been his own ass. It was something about a repeating day. If they did this thing he could stop repeating a day and he could go on with his Buffy-whipped life.

“Bad girl,” she heard Spike’s voice, “Don’t ever...”

It was off to her right and feint. What was he bitching about now? She did what he wanted. Not that he even asked. He just ran with her and she could have stopped him, but he seemed so desperate. So, she went along and now there was a hand holding her bit leg and Spike was on the floor and…

“Oh God! Spike! No! No.”

Faith had forced Spike to almost kill her. For real. His bite stopped the pain of the nasty thing bite. And…it was all just another selfish way of saving herself. God, no matter how hard she worked…How was there a hand on her leg that made it okay? She didn’t want then to see this.

“Faith,” the hand had a voice, “I’m sorry, but I had to help Spike first. I gave Spike something and he’s fine. He did the right thing. He saved your life and you’re leg.”

“No, no,” she said.

Hot tears spilled out of her eyes.

“You’re fine, right Spike?” the voice said, “I got you, man.”

“I bollixed it up,” Spike sounded far away.

Faith felt like she was looking down at him through a telescope.

“We fucked up,” the voice said, “It’s how we know we’re us. Faith, I’m here to take care of you guys now. I know the pain feels as bad as your leg being burned off from the inside like napalm. I’ve only heard second hand. I’m sure I couldn’t take it. When I was a kid my sister barely bit me and I almost fainted.”

Faith looked at the hand and the arm that was holding her leg. They had a face.

“How?”

It wasn’t a face she expected.

“So,” they said, “Right now I’m pushing on a pressure point that takes the pain down a lot.”

It wasn’t that it was a bad face. It was a good face. Lot’s of eyes. Like more than 50% eyes. She heard music outside. Where were they?

“Okay,“ Faith said, “Who---“

“Ow,” Spike said as the door pushed open and hit him in the leg.

“Get the hell away from her!” A voice she really knew said.

Oh God! It was Willow. Faith moved to get to the other woman.

“Will..Aaaah! Oh!”

Faith failed to even say Willow’s name as she began to feel the pain burn into her. But then the hand was on her leg again.

“Faith,” the eyes said, “Don’t move. Okay.”

“Willow,” Faith cried, “I’m sorry.”

Now shame burned into her. Faith had spent this whole year getting her life together and now Willow would know she hadn’t changed. She had fucked everything up. Faith was sure Willow was smart enough, or witchy enough to suss out what happened here. That Faith was still so fucking weak, that after a bit of pain she had tried to do suicide by B’s vampire and had only succeeded to surprise orgasm a bunch. She had cheated, violated Spike, and fucked things up for the whole group in one fell swoop.

“Willow isn’t mad at you,” the kid said, “Willow knows you saved her and everyone. Willow wants you to keep still to save your leg.”

At least the face and the big blue eyes looked like a kid. He was probably a thousand year old good demon. Would a thousand year old good demon be a god? It sounded like he knew Willow. The Scoobies knew all the cool people.

“Who the hell---“ Willow began.

“If you don’t know who I am, Rosenberg, than I’m you’re only chance, and if you’re lying and you do. Well, then it’s already gone.”

“No, no,” Faith began. This wasn’t right. People didn’t talk that way to Willow. She was a living saint, and Faith should probably stick up for her.

“Faith,” the kid said, “I can give you something right now that will help with the pain. It may make you feel a little loopy but…“

“Yes,” she didn’t hesitate, “I want that.”

If something could help in a crisis you did it.

“Rosen—Willow,” he said, “Get me the blue syringe in the black bag.”

“Listen, you, whoever, I’m not injecting my—Faith-- with drugs when—“

Faith felt jumped because her leg began to burn again. Then she felt an awful pinch and saw that the kid was drawing a needle away from her.

“Good,” he smiled at her, “Real fast.”

He was really good at explaining stuff fast. Faith was good at it too when she was on top of things. At least she thought so. She wanted to help people. She really did. She had gone out on her first patrol as a cadet the other night and it went okay.

“What the-- what are you—You—you can’t do this. I—I’m--“ Willow was adorably flustered.

“Willow,” Faith said, “It’s okay.”

“It’s okay?...” Willow said.

The kid was putting a bandage on her leg. He looked up at her and…

“Connor!” Faith felt a rush of memories come back.

“Here we go again,” Spike was finally getting up from the floor.

“’It’s okay?’” Willow said, “Spike clearly bit you and this-this threating Doogie Houser injected you with drugs and ‘it’s okay?’ Maybe if it was 1999 but—“

“I know it’s past two-thousand zero-zero,” Faith said and laughed because it was funny, “This isn’t a party. I—I didn’t cheat on you. This—this is my friend, Connor. What am I saying? You know him. You met him. Angel’s son.”

“What?” Willow said.

Faith laughed. She didn’t know why she had taken all this near-death and fucking up so seriously.

“Oh shit, Connor,” Faith said, “By ‘loopy’ I really hope you didn’t mean continuous forced orgasms because I’m so over that for at least a month.”

“What?” Willow said.

“No, baby, it’s more like two joints and a six pack.”

Oh, perfect, my kind of night,” Faith stretched out her legs.

Did he just call her…? No. She was loopy. She barely remembered how she got to the Bottom of The Hill. Had Connor said he was coming? For some reason the plush blue bench against the wall was skeeving her out.

“Faith!”

“I’m sorry, Willow,” Faith said, “I fucked up at being a Slayer again. This is exactly why cop is better for—whoa!”

Faith almost fell on her ass, but Spike caught her by the shoulders.

“Oh shit,” Faith said, “Thanks, Spike.”

“Don’t thank me,” Spike said, “I’m the one who bollixed it up. The kid put me on vampire Xanax. What are you on?”

“I don’t know, but it’s pretty good,” Faith laughed again.

Her leg felt like it was filled with helium instead of pain. But that made it hard to walk.

“No, I’m the one that dropped the ball with everything. But here,“ Connor scooped Faith up like a basket of muffins.

She laughed again.

“I won’t drop you,” he said, “I swear.”

“Look at that,” Faith said, “The kid can scoop me up like a basket of muffins he’s growing up.”

She pinched his cheek with her free hand.

“Um,” he said, “You do know that I’ve lived three lives and I’m only four years younger than you, and I always had super strength. So, you’d think I could meet you after a simple dimension cleanse spell at the right time. Sorry.”

No,” Spike said, “I didn’t even get the timing right to tell Faith about it.”

Right. Now Faith remembered. Spike wanted to stop one of those repeat days that only he realized was repeating.

“Hey,” Faith said as Connor moved with her towards the door, “If we pulled this off does it count as saving the world? I mean, probably not right. The world is still the world even if it’s the same shit over and over.”

“No,” Spike sounded a little too chill behind them, “I told you that reality would disintegrate, remember?”

“No,” she stretched in Connor’s arms, “I don’t, but I’m just a delicate little fuck-up flower. We probably didn’t do it right.”

“Hey!” someone yelled behind them and it took Faith a second to realize it was Willow.

“You know who didn’t screw anything up and has two thumbs and a lot of power,” she said, “This girl, and you’re not going to literally take my girlfriend away from me. Angel doesn’t have a son, unless you count Spike! Who the fuck are you?”

Oh, man. This was going to be a night to remember. Did Willow just call Faith her girlfriend? Was she jealous of Connor? That was crazy.

“I know who I am, Rosenberg,” Connor said, “and I’ve got a pretty good idea of who you are. The question is why would you move time and space around in this club just so Faith would forget me?”

“I swear to all the time lords,” Spike muttered under his breath, “If I have to go through this bloody love triangle one more time I’m going to cut my own head off with the end of it.”

And tonight they were clearly going crazy like it’s 1999. Only Faith wasn’t Buffy, so she just started laughing her ass off. She was pretty loopy.


	6. Your Pussy is God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor thinks he's got it all under control and he's in for a surprise.

Connor knew he was one of the most unpopular characters in the scene right now. He’d never been well-liked and he never did care.

Being unpopular wasn’t what pushed his skinny teenaged dirt bag ass over the edge.

He never once wanted everyone to love him for being some super-being. What he wanted was someone to love him for what he was:

-The child that never should have been born.

-The God-fearing Destroyer of a Hell Dimension.

-The vindictive little fucker with the strength of a Slayer.

-The father of a false god.

-The snarky-yet-sweet suburban Ivy League Kid who could laugh it all off.

_Guess what, kid? They’re all you, but you’re in charge of your own deal now._

Yeah and now he wasn’t a kid anymore. Yet he still wasn’t popular for the same old reason:

Connor disrupted shit.

In Silicon Valley everyone said they wanted to be a “disruptor” now. The disruptor was supposed to be the loveable underdog. That was why everyone really hated a disruptor, hated him. First it had been reminding his vampire father of his past. Then it had been killing a lie for all of LA. (Throw in exposing the debate club cheating/sex scandal at Glendale High in 2004 too. They said he was boy Veronica Mars)

After that it had been Willow Rosenberg and the gang. And now it was Silicon Valley. It was all the same.

Connor reminded everyone they weren’t the delightful little guys. Sometimes they were the big bad guys.

In the valley they said he was “vicious” with his competition, “sneaky” about his true endgame, and “tenaciously loyal” to his allies. He knew he wasn’t the underdog.

He had a “modest” three million dollar house. (They had to live in the hills and they had to live near the valley, so it was as modest as you could get.) He had a Telsa and a BMW motorcycle. He had a heated pool,

_and did you see his wife? The story was she was a stripper he “rescued” in Boston. No! The story was she was one of those Suicide Girls; No, that’s not it; she was one of those Slayer girls that he ‘rescued’ when the bottom fell out of that. The story was she met him when he was too young to know better and now…_

The story was she was the only one who understood without wanting someone. The story was they had sent 347 emails and 88 texts over four and half years. One night she texted that she was in trouble and then all of his emails and texts of her were gone, but he remembered them. So he did something about it… 

Connor didn’t care if everyone saw him as the underdog in his house. It had ended up being a good disruption tool.

What Connor didn’t like was actually being disrupted in his house. He also didn’t like being the bad guy there. He hated being the guy who was man-splaining to his wife as she angrily folded perfectly clean clothes and insisted on wearing the same dirty worn Tom Petty T-shirt. He wasn’t the asshole that didn’t understand why Faith may not want an uncanny human robot in her home. He really did but:

“I didn’t know we were going to have a pandemic and a moron in charge, so, I had to bring it home. Besides homeschooling isn’t really your thing. Clem is safe. She has the strength of a house cat. She also has a fail safe and an manual shut down that anyone could press.”

Faith talked over his last sentence.

“You might as well be saying this is your house, and you’ll do what you want, and it’s not safe for me to leave.” she hugged her knees on the hippy bedspread. She only did that when she was upset.

“And,” she continued, “I’m just some dumb white trash chick that should keep her mouth shut, because you know everything, and have robots, and AIs that tell the future; and this is all starting to feel familiar. At least she didn’t ignore me.”

Connor made sure he paused before he spoke. Shit. He knew she was angry about the bot, but she didn’t know she was this angry, compare-and-contrast-him-to-Rosenberg-angry.

He really thought the lack of sex was due to Faith being upset that she really couldn’t go out during COVID. As if it was his fault for knowing they should be considered high risk. He knew Faith didn’t mean to blame him. He reminded himself her annoyance was a small to pay to keep her, to keep all of them, alive. He had to have patience. A virtue one of his three fathers preached of constantly. One was a living cautionary tale of how you had to have it _when it counted_. The last one actually taught it to him.

“Wow. Seriously, Faith,” Connor said after a pause.

He could have done better: _I feel hurt when you compare me to your mind-raping ex when I’ve devoted my life to stopping what she helped create but I understand your frustrated._

Really, bringing up Rosenberg was really a way to test him, and she knew it. The good news is sometimes Faith baited him into a fight for makeup sex, but it would have to be later. He needed to get back to work. Patience.

“At least you didn’t say she wrote tighter code than me,” he joked about Rosenberg, “and if you want me to give you the kind of attention she did you wouldn’t complaining that I had to bring my work home. You wouldn’t be aloud to.“

Faith responded by turned on King Princess singing Your Pussy is God.

**Your pussy is God/ and I love it/ Gonna kiss me real hard/make me wanna it…**

“Oh,” he said over the song, “That reminds me. Can you not play this song so much around the chief?”

He said this because the chief had been signing it, and that wasn’t ideal, and because he’d rather talk about anything than Willow Rosenberg.

“Why? Pussy being god is wrong? But, being taught by a sex-bot is okay?” Faith was folding the laundry fiercely.

**Been knocked down from some other love** **/But their best wasn't good enough..**

Connor wasn’t going to take that bait. He loved Faith, but he had to go back to work. This whole working from home thing needed boundaries and patience. This wasn’t about the bot. He knew there was only one reason for her to be mad about the bot, and it had nothing to do with the actual bot.

“So that’s my job now?” She glanced up at him folding with fire.  
“Hey, at least you didn’t become a cop, right?” he said, and quickly realized that was _not_ great. “I mean, being the one indie Chosen Slayer is much—“

“—pointless,” she said, “right now because if I go out there and beat down some shit cop for roughing up a protestor all I’ll do is create more _violence and chaos._ ” Faith full lips sneered.

Okay two reasons. Connor never spoke those words. It sounded like they came from up on high from Slayer Corp. As if Faith ever listened to that sell-out. He was supposed to say ‘those sellouts’ because critical thinkers knew it wasn’t any one person’s fault when a establishment lost its mission, but…

“Violence and chaos is fine with me,” he joked and sat on the bed where she folded, “But, This is about Tara.”

“No,” she stopped folding, “It’s not.”

Faith loved Tara. Everyone did. Who wouldn’t love an anti-human trafficking, AI rights protecting bad-ass tech-witch? But, Faith really fell in love with Tara. Connor had been there the night Faith had met Tara (or met her again.) He remembered the outside bar with fairy-lights in Hawaii because it reminded him of the other bar in San Francisco. At the time he freshly remembered San Francisco with her and Spike. He remembered Faith pressing her forehead to his in Hawaii.

_I can’t lose you, kid._

_You won’t_

**You know that it's God, baby/ When you're around her/** **I've been praying for hours**

Connor was never jealous about Tara. He was twenty-five and still getting his shit together. He knew Tara could give Faith the love she deserved. He figured he’d visit them in Hawaii, and maybe, one day, he’d get to do what Spike got to do with Faith and Tara. But, even if he never did he was happy, just knowing they existed, that they were the infamous Faith and Tara.

**You know that it's God baby/ when you're around her/** **  
She's God and I've found her, oh…**

When Tara died and they, really Connor, had figured out what had really happened Connor decided he had his shit together. His purpose was to serve Faith. At first he wanted to serve her to get her revenge, her vengeance would come from him, but be hers.

Yeah, he got a little dark there in his 20s. Part of it was that he was sure Rosenberg had more to do with it than anyone wanted to admit as usual. But, Faith set him straight:

_No, kid. I don’t need blood. I need you with me to make sure this shit never happens again. You’re the only one I know who can match these fucks that way. But, if you go dark on me it will fuckin’ kill me. I can’t lose you._

At that time Connor made another decision. He would have his mundane life. He’d forget about the PHD life and go into tech, to hold back the demons in it. Back then he had pictured probably getting married to a bookish gamer girl and having 2.5 kids. But then he’d always decided: NO! Because maybe he couldn’t have normal kids. He thought he could study his DNA.

All he knew for awhile was this: Cordelia Chase had devoted her life to serving good gods, and in the end, she was rewarded by becoming a pawn to a bad one. In the end she didn’t seduce him. Her body was used to seduce him.

_And she didn’t even get a lousy T-shirt. I guess she pissed off the wrong god, kid. Would it make you feel better if I told you stories of what a bitch she was in high school?_

At 26 Connor told himself none of his powerlessness mattered because Connor would be utterly devoted to Faith Lehane, and her cause. It was his cause too. They’d make sure no tech or science could ever force itself upon innocent souls, because clearly tech were the new gods _._ Now he was 35, the age of most Avengers actors during the movies. Connor and Faith had been through more than all those movies (including spin-offs).

“The whole point of me doing this is so nothing like Tara will ever happen again,” he said now.

Faith looked at him. Her looks were sometimes like Russian novels filled with despair and levels of morality and manipulations.

**Y** **our pussy is God/ and I'm falling** **/ We're on the same wave when we're talking..**

“You know that—that’s not what I meant,” he said, “I meant—“

“I know what you meant,” she said, “Free will and all of that. You’re devoted to the cause since your whole existence happened because of the lack of it. Believe me. I get it. You know I do; we get each other. That’s how all of this--” She gestured to the bedroom “happened. But, it was always going to happen, wasn’t it?”

Okay, this was about her wanting to go out and bust heads.

“If you have to go out, Faith, I can’t stop you but then we’d have to make up an entirely different protocol for safety. If you don’t care about yourself, I can’t stop you but you know I can’t let you—I mean--“

“ _Let me! Let me!” Faith would say, “You are just like her! Luckily, I can kick you in the balls. But maybe I have to get back control of what’s attached to them.”_

This was just Connor’s current fantasy. Not a memory. Connor had trained his mind in knowing the difference between fantasy and reality. Not that it was difficult in this case. This was his present fantasy but as Spike once said desire is the most powerful element to change reality. Actually Spike said: _Desire bends the bloody fuck out of reality. You of all people should know that, dummy._

“I mean, I know you’re pissed off at the world and me but—“

“I’m not pissed off, kid,” she said, “I’m resigned Totes different animal.”

Faith didn’t have the reality changing desire to have sex. She took the laundry basket and went into the walk-in closet. Connor sighed and followed her. He had five minutes and then he had to get back to work.

“For someone who isn’t deeply pissed at me you’re sure trying to hurt me,” he stood in the doorway of the closet, “Bringing up Rosenberg, implying that I’m--”

“No, if I wanted to hurt you I’d go for your vanity and say pretty boy geniuses don’t age well. But, maybe cute witch’s do. Maybe she is the good one now. Not that she was ever bad, like we—“

He walked into the closet up to her side. She held the laundry basket at her hip.

“Don’t say it,” he said softly.

“Don’t say what?” she glanced back at him, “My opinion of--”

“No, don’t say I’m not pretty anymore.”

Connor was doing well at weaving his way through this. He knew Faith could not mean that she was once again doubting Willow Rosenberg’s morals; at least not so obviously.

He’d go with the pretty boy thing. Faith had said this aging pretty boy thing before. She said it to him in front of people at some bullshit party with bullshit people, in one of those bullshit huge corporations. The bullshit people all paused waiting for his bullshit reaction. Connor laughed: “ _Even if I end up not aging well you’ll still love me for my money.”_

He could replay that whole night in his head if he got tired of being patient. God. That was the first night she really got over the lightening incident. Him too. The lightening incident wasn’t time or memories taken from them. It was Faith herself. She had been struck by lightening. She disappeared for 22 hours.

He had felt like a 28-year-old scared little boy, because he was so afraid that she was going to tell him that she didn’t want to be with him because maybe they were _cursed._ He should have known better. It only took her five days and a mission get over it. “ _Fuck, I don’t care how ugly you get. You are the destroyer of my pussy.”_

_“No, I couldn’t destroy such a powerful thing. I’m just the disruptor of it.”_

Now she scoffed at him with a laundry basket.

“You know I’m still as pretty as ever,” he followed as she put shirts in drawers, “And, you’re also older than me.”

“I know,” she said, “Like four whole years in rich man wife years what is that? Ten years past trade in time?”

“I don’t know,” he said, “I’ll have to check with the wife trade-in association.”

“Cool beans,” she said, “Tell them all the aging Slayers are coming for them.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, “I will. Because, apparently, I warn the patriarchy.”

He probably shouldn’t have used that “p” word.

“Baby,” she shut a drawer and laughed, “You _are_ the patriarchy. You’re a boy genius turned millionaire in Silicon Valley whose daddy magic-ed away all his mistakes and dead bodies.”

He could still hear King Princess out there:

**You're extra special, something else** **/Or maybe it's you…  
  
**

“Okay,” he drawled as she saw his hands clench and unclench, “and who are you?”

“Oh,” she said, “I’m _much_ _much_ worse. The most hated person in the shit-show. I’m a bad girl turned vanilla who fucks the spoiled douche. I end up shot or strangled. The dumb whore who had it coming.“

Connor quickly remembered something else, or he never really forgot it. Faith standing in a Pixies T-shirt with her eyeliner running calling herself every horrible name he ever heard. Telling him this obviously wasn’t Rosenberg at all but some vengeance demon giving her “what she deserved.” Because Faith told him she remembered, she finally remembered what “the demon” made her confess. She was so convinced this was reality.

_“Then we have to beat the demon at his own game,” Connor said._

And now he’d do it again.

“Aw,” he sat on the hamper now, “Honey, is this you’re way of telling me you want choke sex? All you had to do is--”

“Maybe _you_ do,” she didn’t look at him as she hung up pants, “and you know if you act obtuse enough you can get it from me.”

“Obtuse?” he looked up at her knowing he was giving her his innocent look.

“Yeah,” she turned, “I know big words now. I’m real smart. Not just your arm piece because you know pretty cracks, but sexy stays forever.”

He did know that.

“Hmm,” he said.

“’Hmm’,” she said, “That sounds like someone who’s all out of fucks to give.”

“Hmm,” he said again, “Yeah. Only nothing is ever what it seems around here.”

He got up and pulled her too him.

“What the-“ she began.

“I’m doing exactly what I have to,” he said, “You not giving me a choice and really, Faith, really. You know I have other stuff to do. You know you deserve this. You know you’re a Slayer, and you don’t get forgiven.”

He rubbed her bare ass. She wasn’t wearing any underwear. Just the dirty Tom Petty shirt. She was just showered so her natural scent was masked by cucumbers and chemical flower scent. But a flood of her musk wafted up to him like a brush fire.

“Stop,“ she said and shut her eyes.

“Okay,” he sat on the hamper again, “Stopped. Now get over my knee.”

“Dude—“ she began.

“You swore,” he put on his best calm voice while his huge hard on threatened to blow the whole thing.

The smell of her could set off detectors. He really felt like he had an unfair advantage.

“You swore you’d always let us beat the demon!” he crossed his legs.

“Oh,” she smirked, “Are you talkin’ about the ol’ 09’ three-way that almost killed all of San Francisco? Shouldn’t Spike be the—“

“Now that’s just sad,” he said, “I won’t give you any for that.”

“Any what?”  
“Spankings for trying to make me jealous,” he said with a sigh.

“Ha!” she said coming closer to him, “Why would you get jealous when you can just find out anything and everything? Are you--”

“I’m trying to decided if it’s two of four,” he said.

He put his leg out and up and hooked it around her ass.

“Two or four?” she said as she let his leg draw her closer to him.

“Yeah,” he said, “Two or four times you really truly verbally defaced yourself so I’d literally deface your ass. I think I’ll go with three.”

“What? Three,” she said and the way she looked at him made his cock throb, “As in three-way? Who the hell marries the girl from the three-way, you—“

“Oh no,” he said softly, “and now it’s gonna be special.”

“Special?” She lay across his lap ass up breathing hard. “If that’s what you’re into. I hope you don’t mean hangers.”

“No way,” he said, “I’m not mommy dearest. I’m daddy destroyer. Ready?”

He didn’t wait for her snark.

“You-“ Smack! “Need!” Smack! “This!” Smack. “For deprecated yourself, young Slayer.”

She stiffened during each smack but now lay slack.

“Like you’re baby slaps would make me shit myself,” she said, “and I’m not y— Hmp.“

He thrust two fingers in her and smacked her harder.

“You-“ Smack! “Know” Smack! “What” ” Smack! “’deprecated’” Smack! “means” Smack!

Now she moaned as he thrust his fingers in and out to the rhythm of his slaps.

“And you’d never shit yourself because you’re too wet,” he said.

“You’re a pig,“ she said slack across him.

He knew he could go easy on her. He smacked the same place each time. Not as hard as he could, but hard enough that his red handprint was forming. She was silent and he could feel her soaking his right knee. He lay his hand on her back.

“But, I’m still doing exactly what you want, aren’t I?”

“Aren’t I?” he thrust two fingers in her.

“No…”she huffed as he scissored and kicked his fingers inside her, “You’re not. You’re—ah!“

“You sure about that?” he said. 

“Yes,” she said, “You—you’re—“

This was one of the few times he loved when she couldn’t talk. She was always filled with surpri—

Connor’s ass was on the carpet of the closet. His two fingers still wet with her. He wanted to lick them. But his hand, both of his wrists were under Faith’s grip as she straddled him.

“ _Now_ you’re doing exactly what I want,” she said.

He face looked amber in the dim light of the closet. It wore her twisted smile. Sunlight from the bedroom window shined only at the top of her head and the closet wall.

“Great,” he grunted as he pushed into her grasps on his wrists, “How much of a struggle should I put up?”

“Like you’re pretending,” she said as she gripped him harder.

She wasn’t just gripping his wrists with her hands but her body with his thighs.

“The struggle is real,” his voice was higher, “It’s definitely real.”

She laughed. Thank, God, she laughed. Dark humor was her favorite but it had to land right and with the world falling apart with real struggles…

“Poor little privileged boy,” she ground his stiff cock through his softer jeans, “No matter what shit he pulls he’ll never be stronger than me.”

“What exactly am I being accused of, ma’am? All I did was follow the rules that we agreed to.”

“Rules we agreed to?” her eyes moved to the side, “No. Whatever your doing it’s not-- Oh you mean that stupid fucking spanking game. So, if I let you go you’ll actually have the balls to try that again?”

“I don’t want you to let me go,” he said, “I’ll do whatever you want.”

As she brought her face down he finally was allowed to kiss her. Their mouths gripped each other. The kiss radiated through his body. He felt so connected to her, to his whole home. He could hear feint music downstairs. She broke away from him like an angry suction cup.

“You’ll do whatever I want? Why?” she said, “What’s in it for you?”

This was a trick question right now. She was actually still mad. If he said he loved her she could shut him out.

“Because your pussy is god,” he said.

There was a whole other song playing in the bedroom now, but he’d be damned if he cared about what it was.

“And you make gods and kill them,” she said.

He felt is forehead knot.

“No,” he said, “They just fuck with me more than everyone else. So--”

She let go of his wrists and sat back.

“And you’re tired of it,” she said, “So, if my pussy is god and—“

“What’s bothering you?” He kissed at her neck with feverish pecks.

He gathered her damp hair at the nape of her neck and kept delicately nibbling around her jawline.

“I know it’s not really the bot,” he kissed at her ear, “What is? Tell me? Please. Please.”

She yipped, like the gentle kisses were bites. It was one of his secret cheat codes. He could also message her temples, or the base of her neck. He could hold her hair back with a gentle tug like he was. He could squeeze her thigh.

But, the biggest one you could never talk about, that more secret than Fight Club, or the real meaning of life, was that Faith Lehane the murderer vampire slayer loved to be swept of her feet. That fucking bitch hadn’t taken that from her, from them. When Connor was in a position to do any of these cheat codes she usually melted into a little kitten. Usually.

Faith pushed him on his back again.

You could only get into positions with Faith Lehane if she wanted you to be in them.

“You gotta work for it, son,” she said.

She flashed her wicked grin above him. She unbuckled his belt and undid his pants.

“I can—I can-“

He could do that. He always had and it really wasn’t so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the song lyrics are in bold and are from "Your Pussy is God" by King Princess
> 
> These characters aren't mine. I made no money from this.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is super sex, queer, and kink positive but if you hate Het pushing its way in to things you could hate it.  
> If you like Dark Willow and/or just her not-so-hidden control issues you'll love it. If you hate whiney Connor you REALLY COULD love it. (I made him a man, while keeping the good stuff. He is mine*)  
> Eventual Westword. Wait for it.  
> *JK None of these characters are/were ever mine. I'm making no money.


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